


Pop-Culture

by Remma3760



Series: SG-Sentinel [2]
Category: Stargate SG-1, The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, Humor, M/M, None - Freeform, crossovers, other pairing - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 09:39:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/796796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remma3760/pseuds/Remma3760
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A crossover with Stargate : This story was written for Lela, who won it at the Moonridge Auction. She asked for a sequel to Protecting The tribe, so here it is. The continuing adventures of Jim and Blair at the SGC, where our boys encounter a very unusual alien culture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pop-Culture

## Pop-Culture

#### by Remma

Author's website: <http://www.geocities.com/morennab/sentinelindex.htm>  
Not mine, I own nothing, please don't sue me.  
Thans to Lela for bidding for a story, and to Alyjude, who looked it over for me and told me that it didn't totally suck.  
Although this is a sequal, it can be read independantly. All you need to know is that it is after TSbBS, and Jim and Blair have been recruited to work at the SGC  


* * *

**PART 1**

Pop-Culture  
By Remma 

// To: naomijoy@hotmail.com  
From: anthroguppy  
Subject: Re: how could you 

Hi Naomi.  
Well, I'm glad you finally got my letter, but I have to say, I was hoping for a more positive response. You could at least try to respect my choices. And, incidentally, they _were_ my choices. Jim did not force me, pressure me or coerce me in any way. Obviously, he was involved, since whatever we do, we will do together, but we made our decisions after a lot of agonising over our options, and because ultimately we _both_ believed that this was the best course for _both_ of us. 

I know that in the past it may have seemed that I put my own needs aside in preference for Jim's, but I really didn't. You see, what I need most is that Jim be safe and well. I know that's hard for you to understand, but maybe if just once you'd allow yourself to really become a part of someone else's life, you could appreciate what I have with Jim. // 

Sighing, Blair leaned away from the computer screen, doubting whether he could ever put his relationship with Jim into words that his mother could understand. Focusing his thoughts, he picked up where he had left off, typing with renewed energy. 

// Maybe then, you'd understand that being with someone, loving someone, doesn't mean having to give up your freedom. Believe me; I'm freer now than I've ever been, because for the first time I absolutely trust another person with all that I am. Jim is the keeper of my soul Naomi. In that way, I suppose you're right in saying that I belong to him, but it's equally true to say that he belongs to me. That's what love is, merging your life, your ambitions, your dreams with another person, and it has _nothing_ to do with `detaching'. 

Mom, you have to realize that I'm not a child anymore. You always say that you `hear me', but you never do. Then again, how could you when you never listen. I'm not you, Naomi; my values are not yours; my hopes are not yours; my needs are not yours. 

Tell me, what right do you have to say that Jim is using me? What can you possibly know about our life together? Do you realise that all told, you've spent less than a fortnight with us in the course of your rare flying visits? You stay just long enough to cause havoc, then beetle off to some far-flung retreat to `process' when the shit hits the fan. 

It's true that Jim tends to withdraw when he feels threatened, but I understand why he does it and deep down, so does he. It's instinctive with him, but I have never doubted his love and trust for me, and I know that ultimately, he will allow me to help and support him. It just takes him awhile to get to that point. 

Then of course, he isn't the only one in this relationship with abandonment issues. I know you believe that you gave me this wonderful, carefree childhood, but I have to tell you, it wasn't always fun and games for me. Yes, it could be exiting, but there were times when I missed the `normal' things in life; I missed having true friends; I missed belonging; I missed knowing where I would be in a month - hell, a week's time. Naomi, I missed having a home. Jim was the first person to give me any kind of stability, of permanence, and I will always cherish that feeling. He has put up with my panic attacks, my obfuscations and my hyperactive babbling, so really, the least I can do is wait for him to work through his anxieties. // 

Blair paused again, hands poised over the keyboard. Had he perhaps been too harsh? But no, these things needed to be said. Should, in fact, have been said a long time ago. Always, he had prevaricated, wary of hurting his adored mother's feelings. The result was that she continued to treat his life as an extension of her own. For too many years, he had allowed her to get away with it, but no more. She had dared to criticize Jim, and that he would not tolerate. She was his mother and he would always love her, but his priorities had changed. She no longer came first with him. That place belonged to Jim, now and forever. 

// Naomi, I find it hard to believe that you're blaming Jim for the problems we went through. You have no idea of the pressure he was under. The press was hounding him; they even went after his father and brother. On top of that, he had to watch as Simon and Megan were shot and nearly killed by a lunatic who was after him because of his senses. Under the circumstances, he was remarkably restrained. 

The decisions I made regarding my dissertation were mine and mine alone. I did the only thing I could think of to put right a situation raging out of control due to my carelessness. Jim did not ask me to do it, and even offered to come clean about his senses after things had calmed down. I wouldn't let him. I still won't, so how dare you point the finger at him over any part of that fiasco. I meant what I said when I told you I forgave you for your actions, but that doesn't mean I don't blame you. Naomi, if you had done what I asked and respected my privacy, then none of this would have happened. I know you meant well, but every bad thing that happened was directly due to your interference, and you need to accept responsibility for that. // 

Blair let a snigger escape at the thought. Responsibility and Naomi Sandburg were simply too diametrically opposed to fit comfortably in the same sentence. 

// I'm sorry if this upsets you, but it has to be said, or things will never change. It would be so much easier though, face to face. I really wish you would re-consider coming for a visit now that we have a place of our own and are all settled in. God, that sounds so strange - a place of our own. How weird is it that I actually own my own apartment - well, _half_ my own apartment. // 

And how weird was it that here he was, sharing his heart and his bed with his very own genetic throwback to pre-civilised man. He spent every working day at the bottom of a mountain. He regularly travelled through a wormhole produced by alien technology to distant planets, and yet he considered the strangest thing in his life to be that he now owned real estate. Maybe Naomi's style of upbringing wasn't a total bust. 

Yet it wasn't until the truck had arrived loaded with their possessions that he had realised how much he missed the comfort of his own things. Jim too, seemed reassured by the return of the familiar, arranging furniture and knick-knacks around their new home until it looked surprisingly similar to the old loft. 

His behaviour in his new territory had been fascinating to Blair, although not completely unexpected. He had poked into every nook and cranny, spending hours tracking down and identifying strange smells and unexplained noises. There had been a minor crisis when Jim had been convinced that he was hearing voices, but the explanation had turned out to be quite banal. It seemed that the ventilation shafts running through the building were excellent sound conductors, and once this phenomenon was explained Jim spent many a happy hour eavesdropping on their neighbours. Blair knew he should put a stop to it, but then how would he find out if Melanie in 203 would follow convention and marry Karl, or follow her heart and choose Deirdre. As for the Bickles in 305, `Days of Our Lives' had nothing on them; neither did the Simpsons come to that. Oh well. 

So, Jim had mapped every square inch of this new loft, imprinting it on his senses and making it his own. In fact, Blair would not have been surprised to see him pissing on the lintels. Jim's obsessive prowling was halted only by the arrival of the cable man, bearing multiple channels and a brand new remote. A remote that had since been all but welded to Jim's hand. Blair let his gaze wander over to the couch where even now his beloved was captivated by some gross feature on bizarre items removed from the human body. Bless. 

// I really believe that if you could meet some of our new friends, you would change your opinion of the military. Remember I told you about our team leader, Colonel Nelson? Well, she is just amazing. Did you know that to get as far as Colonel, you needed a college degree? I know I didn't. I just always assumed military equalled dumb, but I soon learned different. I spent a lot of time with her while she was in the infirmary, and we got to know each other a lot better. Ever since she got to go home, she's made a point of inviting Kent Withers, our fourth member, and us over for regular team get-togethers. Of course, we've been re-assigned while she recovers from her injuries, but we just heard today that her long recuperation is finally over, and she'll be fit for duty next week, which is way cool. Personally, I think we lucked out in our assignment and couldn't wish for a better team. 

Then there's Daniel Jackson and Jack O'Neill. Daniel is the guy I told you about in my letter. It's because of him that Jim and I are here, and he's become a good friend. He's about the smartest guy I've ever met, and I could listen to him talk for hours. I love Jim completely, but until Daniel, I had forgotten the joy of just talking for hour after hour about the kind of stuff that sends Jim into a coma. Fortunately, I don't have to feel guilty for abandoning Jim when I spend time with Daniel, since he gets on great with Jack O'Neill, who is Daniel's team leader, also his best friend, also one of the scariest people I know. Thank God, he's apparently decided to like me, because he would be the pits as an enemy. 

I'm not asking you to re-think your worldview totally, I'm just asking you to consider that maybe you've made some sweeping generalizations about a group of people without considering the individuals involved. After all, it's Daniel, Jack and General Hammond who have made it possible for me to try for my doctorate again. In fact, I've already defended, and should hear about it any day now. 

Of course, there are still the occasional lamebrains who get their kicks from ragging on the new guy, especially now that it's generally known that Jim and I are a couple. // 

Blair smiled to himself, still astounded at how that little titbit had become common knowledge. He let his thoughts return to that day in the commissary, and what should have been a quiet cup of coffee with Daniel. 

~oOo~ 

Lifting his head from the manuscript in front of him, Daniel fixed his gaze on his companion. "You know, this Sentinel stuff is intriguing." 

"Isn't it? I remember when I first heard Burton's theories it was like...like something clicked inside me. I was so sure that Sentinels were not simply a myth, and that one day I would find one." 

"And you did." 

"Eventually, yeah, but he sure took his time showing up. But you know, even before I met Jim, I never once doubted the existence of Sentinels, only my own ability at finding one. Then there he was. Jim; my holy grail." 

"I'm guessing it wasn't all plain sailing when you told him what he was." 

Blair laughed, shaking his head at the thought of anything involving Jim being simple. "Man, that is an understatement. He threw me up against a wall, and then stormed off. I think it was mostly my fault though. I kind of called him a Neanderthal." 

"You're kidding." 

"Nope. I was so excited my mouth just took over. I could hear myself saying all the wrong things but I just couldn't stop. It was disastrous" 

"I can imagine. How did you convince him?" 

"Well, partly it was saving him from being road kill, but mostly I think he was so desperate that he would try anything. Then of course, all he wanted was to get back to `normal`, so I had to convince him that he _wasn't_ a freak, that his heightened senses were a genetic advantage, and that they could really be useful to him. Don't even get me started on the whole supernatural element. I think that's the closest I've ever come to being pissed at Jim. I mean, there he was, with his spirit animal and his mystic visions, which I would _kill_ for, and he acts like they're nothing. Unimportant." 

"But he must have come around in the end, right?" 

"Oh, sure, but I had to _die_ before I could get more than a grunt and a shrug out of him, and even then he kept dodging the issue until I pinned him down and forced him to talk about it." 

"You died? Really? Me too. Several times, actually." 

Several times? "How many times?" 

"Well, that depends on whether you count the nearly dead and presumed dead times, or only the all the way dead times." 

"On second thoughts, I'm not sure I want to know." 

"Don't blame you, but don't worry, most people here don't die nearly as often as me." 

"Well no, for most people it's just the once." 

"So that means you're already ahead of the game." 

"Somehow that's not a comfort." 

"You are doing okay here though, aren't you? Glad you came?" 

"Oh yeah, it's cool. It's so great that Jim doesn't have to hide his senses anymore." 

"You know, we wanted you too, not just Jim. I value your input." 

Blair blushed, surprised and gratified by the praise. "Thank-you, Daniel, that means a lot to me." 

"Blair, I would never have recommended you if I hadn't believed that you would be an asset to the SGC. I'm glad you're settling in. I`m sure you never thought you`d end up working for the military. All the rules and regulations can be quite a shock if you`re not used to them." 

"It's not so bad. Remember, I spent years attached to the police department, so I kinda knew what to expect." 

"So everyone's treating you well." 

"Sure. Well, mostly." 

"What do you mean, mostly? Blair, is anyone hassling you?" 

"Not really, just, you know: hippy jokes, geek jokes, fag jokes, nothing I can't handle." 

"Yeah, I got some of that when I was first here." 

"I guess it's the hair. Did things get better for you after you cut yours? Or did they leave you alone because of Colonel O`Neill; and Teal`c; and Major Carter." 

"Well, it didn't hurt being on SG1. But it was probably more the General than Jack. He never showed me anything other than complete respect, and made it clear that he expected everyone else to do the same. Then there's this totally unjustified reputation I seem to have acquired for being nuts." 

"Nuts?" 

"Totally unjustified. I mean, I was under the influence of alien technology when I beat the crap out of that SF and threw Janet across the room. Or when I was seeing wormholes in my closet and dead Goa'uld stalking me. Again when I yelled at General Hammond in his office. Blowing up Moscow was just a dream, so that doesn't count." 

Blew up Moscow? "You blew up Moscow?" 

"Only in a dream. I would never do it for real. I mean, I _like_ Moscow. If I was going to obliterate anywhere, there are much more worthy cities. In fact, there are some places where total annihilation would actually be an improvement. I mean, there`s Pittsburgh, isn`t there?" 

Blair stared at Daniel, amazed that he had ever thought Jack was the scary one in that relationship. "O-kay, I can see how such an unjustified reputation might have come about, but I don't see how that would help with the harassment." 

"Because nuts equals unpredictable, and even the dumbest jarhead thinks twice before hassling someone who could, on a whim, get him re-assigned to latrine duty in the Antarctic." 

"Hey lookee what we have here; Doctor Dweeb and his fag friend." 

"Of course, there are exceptions." 

Blair looked uneasily at the three very large marines circling their table like vultures. He cast a worried glance at Daniel, uneasy at the prospect of a confrontation with a group of men who didn't collectively own a single neck. Daniel, clearly, had no such concerns. 

"My goodness, how witty. We certainly haven't heard _that_ before." 

The lead tormenter swaggered closer, book ended by his sneering cohorts. "I heard about you Jackson, and I aint gonna take no crap from a geek like you." 

"If you've heard about me and you still made a point of coming over here to harass my friend and me, then you're even more of a fool than I took you for. Oh, and by the way, you used a double negative." 

"Huh? Look geek, we don`t need your kind here. There`s no place in this man`s army for..." 

"No, you look. Your attitude is arrogant, pompous, overbearing and counterproductive to the successful running of this facility. Your interpersonal skills are non-existent. Your demeanour is unprofessional and you are a disgrace to the uniform you wear. Now, you will either change your outlook, or I guarantee you will soon be working security at Disney World." 

"Huh?" 

"Oh, I'm sorry, too many big words?" 

Blair really did try to stop the laugh bubbling up in his chest from escaping, but the beached tuna expressions on all three incensed faces was too much for him. His attempt to disguise his chortle as a cough was a dismal failure, resulting only in drawing their irate attention to him. 

"What you laughin' at hippy boy? Your _boyfriend_ know you're runnin' around on him?" 

"His _boyfriend_ has absolute faith in him." 

Blair started, amazed at how quietly a big man like Jim could move. Then he turned to stare at his lover in disbelief as Jim's words registered on his consciousness. 

He wasn't the only one. Jim, however, seemed supremely unconcerned by the five shocked gazes now fixed on him. He smiled warmly at Blair, nodded to Daniel, and ignored the others. 

Bullyboy finally found his voice, glaring accusingly at Jim. "You gotta be kidding Ellison, right?" 

"About?" 

"Well, sure the hippy geek is a fag, but you, you're...you know, a _real_ man. You was a _ranger_ for fuck's sake. No _way_ are you, I mean...no _way_." 

"So...what? Blair is gay, but I can`t be? Don't you think that might cause some problems when we want to have sex?" 

You...you...but you don't even look...I mean, for fuck's sake." 

"I don't see the problem here. Are you jealous? Is that it? Were you interested in Blair, and now you're upset because he's taken? If so, I could quite understand you being disappointed that he was unavailable; I know I would be." 

"What!? Fuck, no, fuck I would _never_...I'm no fag." 

"Oh really? Why not?" 

"Huh?" 

"Well, I mean, think about it. You're both guys, so you both pretty much want to have sex all the time. You can guarantee your partner knows exactly what you like because odds are, he likes it too, _and_ you don't have to talk about it afterwards. What more could you want?" 

As far as Jim was concerned, the matter was now settled, so he turned his attention back to Blair and Daniel. "Hey guys, if you're done here, the General wants you in the briefing room." 

Daniel rose immediately, but Blair continued to sit and stare at Jim. 

"Chief?" 

"Jim?" 

"The General?" 

"What about him?" 

"He wants us; now. You coming?" 

"Oh, okay." 

"So, are you going to get up now, or what?" 

"Okay." 

When he still failed to move, Jim reached out and gently eased him from his chair, looping an arm about his waist and escorting him from the room. 

Blair cast one last look back at their tormentors, the two drones gaping at their leader. Bullyboy's small brain could barely comprehend the recent turn of events. He had been raised to believe in the supremacy of brute force. He had expected to intimidate the two scientists easily, thereby impressing his disciples and increasing his dominance over them. Instead, he had been made to look an idiot by someone he regarded as his inferior. Then to cap it all, a man he secretly admired openly admitted to being one of the very deviants he despised. Not only that, but he had actually dared to cast doubt on Bullyboy's own masculinity. How could this be? 

Once out of the commissary, Daniel paused to allow Jim and Blair to catch up with him. "So Jim, what was it the General wanted?" 

"Oh, nothing, I just felt it was time to make a dramatic exit." 

"I like the way you think. Blair, are you okay." 

"I'm not quite sure. Jim, did you really do what I think you did?" 

"Yes." 

"Oh. Then I guess I am okay. I thought maybe I was delusional." 

"Chief..." 

"Jim, you do realise that that will be all over the base by morning?" 

"Oh, I'd be surprised if it took that long." 

"And you're okay with that?" 

"I am. Look, I know I should have discussed it with you, but when I heard those guys hassling you, I just, well, I figured, why not? I mean, the only reason I haven't said anything before is because I wanted to protect you from that kind of thing, but guys like that, they only see what they want to see. So, if you're going to get harassed anyway, I might as well be in it with you. Besides, I've spent all my life hiding who I really am. This is the first time I've been free to be myself, and I'll be damned if I exchange one lie for another. Are you mad?" 

"No, I'm not mad. Jim, that is one of the best things anyone's ever done for me. Thank-you." He smiled into his lover's eyes, thinking that he must have done something right in his life to be so blessed. 

"Guys, I have a feeling I'm surplus to requirements, so I'm going to head on back to my office and prepare a nice little proposal about our friends from the commissary. I foresee frostbite and emergency rations in their near future." 

"Wow, Daniel, you can really do that? I thought you were kidding." 

"I can't personally transfer them, but Jack or the General can, and will on my recommendation." 

"Are you really sure that's the best course, Daniel. I mean, I know those guys were jerks, but..." 

"No buts. This is not about revenge. Think about it, Blair. This is our World's first line of defence; the first place any visiting alien dignitaries see. If those arrogant dicks can't even deal with variations from their narrow minded view of the accepted norm in our own society, what likelihood is there that they will be able to deal with people from widely divergent belief systems? The SGC can't afford to have that kind of intolerant attitude amongst its personnel. Those chosen to work here are supposedly the best of the best, but occasionally, a few duds slip through, and it's up to the rest of us to weed them out. So if you get any sort of comeback from this incident, I want you to come to Jack, the General, or me." 

Jim in particular looked uncomfortable at the prospect of what he considered ratting out co-workers. 

"Look, Jim, Blair, I don't mean friendly ragging, of which there will be a fair amount considering the manner in which you outed yourselves. I trust you both to know the difference between genial teasing and outright malice. But we really _do_ need to know about the worst of it. Please." 

Looking at Blair, Jim understood that he was the more vulnerable so he reluctantly nodded his assent. It went against the grain for him not to deal with such incidents himself, but he was willing to compromise if it meant Blair's safety. 

"Thanks Jim. Blair?" 

"I guess I see your point. It's hard though. I was always taught to tolerate other people's views, even if I despised them." 

"I know, but there's a point where tolerance becomes complicity." 

Blair started to laugh, almost choking at his friends' astonished expressions. "I'm sorry, it's just, those marines, their intel sure sucks if they thought you would be an easy target." 

~oOo~ 

Blair chuckled again as he remembered that day. In fact, there had been very little hostility, although there had been the predicted teasing. Possibly, the fate of the three marines had proved an effective deterrent. It seemed that Daniel had been right, and that zero tolerance for the bigots was the best policy. Wonder what Naomi would have to say about that? Oh yes, Naomi. 

// That's pretty much it, Naomi. I love you, I miss you, and I wish you to would come for a visit, but I won't beg. I know you're upset, but I'm _not_. I love where my life has brought me even if it isn't where I planned on being. I'm happier now than I have ever been, and I would like to share that happiness with you. The next step is up to you. Consider the invitation extended, now you have to decide whether to take it. 

Love always, Blair. // 

He hit send, and then pushed away from the screen, feeling as though he had been writing for hours. He expected Naomi to be upset by his letter; after all, she wasn't used to any kind of criticism from her precious son. He could only hope that she would consider his heartfelt words and decide to respond. Well, it was done now, no point worrying about it. He would just have to wait and see. 

Arching his back and stretching out his cramped limbs, he ambled over to Jim. He really should do some more research for tomorrow's mission. 

Dropping over the back of the couch, he settled comfortably against Jim, lifting his lover's arm and draping it over his own shoulder so that he could ease in closer. Jim smiled, re-arranging his body so that they fit together perfectly. 

"Say everything you wanted to, Chief?" 

"I guess." 

"I'm sorry it has to be like this with Naomi." 

"It's not your fault. I can't live my whole life just to please my mother. I hope she comes around, but if she doesn't, well, it's her loss." 

"Yeah, it is. But I don't think she'll risk losing you." 

"Probably not. I expect she'll show up in a month or so and act as if nothing has happened. When Naomi doesn't want to face something, then she doesn`t." 

"I noticed. Your mother will always be welcome here. Just make sure anything classified is well hidden." 

Blair laughed, whacking Jim on the shoulder. "God, I'm tense; feel my shoulders." 

Jim did so, kneading them gently, and then stroking down the length of Blair's back. "You are knotted up. Want me to give you a back rub?" 

"That would be great, but you know, I really should get some more work done." 

"Blair, you've been preparing for this mission for days." 

"It's important to me, Jim. I don't want to let Daniel down." 

"Well don't forget that _he_ requested _you_ for this mission. You're the expert on this stuff." 

"Only because Meso American culture is not his primary field of study. He still knows more about it than most of the specialists I've met." 

"Still." 

"Besides, I _like_ research and this place looks fascinating. The empty centrepiece of the golden wall would suggest the Creator, Viracocha, but the abundance of sun motifs could also imply a connection to Tonatiyu. You don't really care about any of this, do you?" 

"Sure I do. Okay, no, it means nothing to me, but I could listen to you talk about it for hours. Do you realise how you shine when you get excited about this stuff? Very sexy." 

"I do? I am?" 

"Aha. But right now, I think you should relax for awhile." 

"Maybe you're right. I wouldn't want to be too stressed to concentrate tomorrow. So, what's this you're watching? It looked vile from the glimpses I kept catching." 

"Oh, it's this cool new channel. You've missed the top one hundred sexual disasters. You wouldn't believe what some people do. This one guy poured cement into his butt." 

"What on earth for?" 

"I have no idea. After this program there`s one called 101 things to do with a dead body. Did you know that if you left your body to science you could be used as a crash test dummy? " 

"That`s something to look forward to then. What's this program about? It looks...oh my god, look at that guy with an axe in his head. An _axe_." 

"I know; it's cool. There were bugs earlier." 

"Bugs?" 

"Yeah. This woman had a worm living in her scalp, and a guy had a leech up his nose. Gross." 

"I wonder what they'd make of a Goa'uld." 

"That would rate an entire show of its own. Maybe even a series." 

"I don't know how you can watch this stuff Jim. I mean, okay, it's...fuck me, what is that?!" 

"Oh good, they're showing this again. They thought this guy had a tumour, but when they removed it, it turned out to be his dead twin, growing inside him. That's it. Look, you can see teeth and eyes and hair." 

"Man, that's just nasty. I know I'm going to have nightmares. Yeewww." 

Jim pounced, laying Blair down flat and covering him with his own body. "There now you can't see it. See how I take care of you?" 

"Thank-you, Jim, you're too good to me. Now that you have me at your mercy, what do you intend to do with me?" 

"What would you like me to do?" 

"Well, remember how you told those marines that with us both being guys, we both pretty much wanted sex all the time? That being the case, why aren't we?" 

"What about last night?" 

"Last night was last night. What about now? We've been home for hours and I haven't had so much as a grope." 

"No problem. I can soon fix that." Jim was as good as his word, grasping both of Blair's hands in one of his own and holding them above his head, framing his face. With his free hand, he pushed up Blair's t-shirt and began to stroke the lightly furred chest. Still keeping Blair's hands raised, he dropped his head and grasped one erect nipple between his teeth. Blair gasped, arching into the touch, eyes closed and head thrown back, opening himself to his lover's trailing kisses. 

Blair writhed in pleasure, encouraging further exploration, but the searching lips had inexplicably halted. Raising his head, Blair's jaw dropped in surprise. "Jim, you had better have zoned, because if you are watching that television again when you have me, ready, willing and able, so help me..." 

"What? God, sorry Chief. I was totally distracted. There's this kid with half his head missing." 

"I don't believe this." 

"But Chief, half his head is missing; and he`s not dead." 

"Jim, you're going to have to make a decision; me or trash TV?" 

"When you put it like that." Jim killed the images, and then tossed the redundant remote over his shoulder. "No contest." 

"Aaaw, Jim, that's so sweet; you love me more than cable." 

* * *

Jack impatiently tapped his P-90, wandering aimlessly between the Stargate and the temple so conveniently placed beside it. He supposed that he should be grateful that for once they didn't have to trek for miles in the blazing sun to reach whatever magnificent edifice Daniel was desperate to study. Still, he wouldn't have minded a _little_ excitement. The occasional wild beast wouldn`t go amiss; maybe a rickety rope bridge or raging torrent. Anything to break the monotony. Still, there was always Daniel to annoy. 

"Daniel, any indication that that two-tone guy was a giant alien?" 

"Not really. But no sign he was a Goa'uld either." 

"Then what _are_ there signs of?" 

"A great deal. These symbols here are very similar to those found on a calendar stone in Tiahuanaco, near Lake Titicaca in Bolivia. According to Aztec tradition, three times the human race became too self-opinionated and three times had to be destroyed, a new sun made by the gods for each re-creation. And see here, this is Tonatiyu casting himself into the fire to..." 

"Daniel! Fascinating as all that is, so what?" 

"I don't know yet. It might not be relevant at all. On the other hand, it might help to explain the purpose of this place. I don't believe that it's simply a temple." 

"Fine, you have thirty minutes to work it out." 

"Jack..." 

"Ah, ah, ah." Jack waved one finger warningly. "Thirty minutes Daniel." 

Jim leaned in closer to Jack, dropping his voice confidentially. "O'Neill, I thought Major Carter and Teal'c weren't due back from their survey for another forty-five." 

"They`re not, but if I tell Daniel thirty minutes now then in thirty minutes when he begs for more time, I can give him another fifteen. He's happy, I look good; win/ win situation." 

"Smart." 

"I thought so." 

Inside the shrine, Daniel carefully brushed away more dust. "Blair, does this symbol mean anything to you?" 

"It looks like a representation of movement, maybe signifying travel." 

"Hmmn, that's what I thought." 

"Daniel, there's so much here, I don't see how we can ever get this done in thirty minutes. Maybe we should start taping now." 

"We have forty-five." 

"Colonel O'Neill said..." 

"He always says that. He thinks it makes him look good when he lets me have extra time after the deadline has passed." 

"Sneaky. Does he know you know what he's up to?" 

"No, and I'm not going to tell him. He gets so bored on any mission that doesn't involve very big guns and enormous explosions. As long as these little intrigues keep him happy who am I to shatter his illusions? Did you see any of these symbols on that pillar out front?" 

"I think maybe that one. I'll go check." 

Blair pushed to his feet, hurrying past Jack and Jim, clambering over the low barricade to examine the large stone pillar dominating the entranceway. Jack strolled after him, stopping behind him to peer over his shoulder. 

"This thing important Sandburg?" 

"Maybe. Daniel, I see most of the symbols repeated here. Oh hey, this one here looks like..." 

"No Blair, don't touch it!" 

Daniel leapt to his feet, suddenly realising the significance of the symbols. Blair started to turn, hand reaching towards the pillar. His fingers brushed across one of the raised images just as Jack's hand grabbed his shoulder. For a moment, they both stood in a shimmering haze, and then they were gone. 

* * *

Jim stared in disbelief at the place where Blair had been. He was gone. Blair was gone. "He's gone. Jackson, where has he gone?" 

"Jack too. They're both gone. It's the pillar. I think it's a transportation device. From what I can tell the symbols...no, Jim. Wait." 

All that had registered with Jim were the words, `transportation device.' He needed to be wherever Blair was, so if Blair had somehow travelled through the pillar, then Jim would follow. 

Daniel ran to Jim, pulling at his arm, desperate to get his attention. "No Jim, listen. It's not random, we have to..." 

Jim turned his uncomprehending gaze to him. "I need to go after him. You do whatever you want. I'm going to get Blair." 

"Jim..." 

Jim was no longer listening. Daniel dug in his heels, pulling back on Jim's arm as hard as he could, but he was no match for a determined Sentinel. Jim's reached out his hand, pressing it to the pillar, flinching as the prickling sensation invaded his whole body. Then he too was gone, taking Daniel with him. 

* * *

**PART 2**

Blair moaned, shaking his head to dissipate the ringing and shrieking in his ears. Gradually, he realised that the cause of the cacophony was not imagined, but originated from the cheering hordes surrounding the dais on which he now stood. Still dizzy, he reached out to grab something to steady himself. Unfortunately, the something he grabbed was Jack, who in a similarly delicate condition was unable to support his weight. The two of them wavered for a moment, and then tumbled down the shallow steps in a tangle of arms and legs. 

The crowd surged forward as they fell, snatching them up and carrying them shoulder high along the wide road. Blair manoeuvred himself into a more comfortable position, craning around to look for Jack. 

"Colonel, are you okay?" 

"Peachy keen, Sandburg. Why wouldn't I be? I've been transported who knows where by who knows what. My head hurts, my back aches, and I'm being tossed around like yesterday's bagels by a bunch of shiny happy people. Pretty much your average day." 

"Look, I'm sorry about all this. I know it's my fault and I should never have touched..." 

"Apologies can wait. First we need to find out where we are, and where we're going." 

"At least they seem pleased to see us. That's got to be good, hasn't it?" 

"Kinda depends. We could be lunch, in which case, not so good. Ow! Hey lady, quit it with the pinching and patting will ya? Sandburg, are they feeling you up, too?" 

"A little. I've been trying to ignore it. I think it's more like, you now, congratulations, and wishing us well rather than...uhm..." 

"Checking to see if we'd make good eating?" 

"Yeah. I've been listening to what they're saying. I was expecting it to be a derivative of Quechua, but it sounds more like early English. See, they're definitely saying hail, and there, bendictay. Except, that sounds like napayku, which _is_ similar to a Quechua word for greetings, so..." 

"Sandburg! Please, bulletpoint it for me?" 

"I think they're blessing us." 

"Blessing us?" 

"Yeah. I think." 

"Blessing us why?" 

"I have no idea." 

"Can you talk to them, find out where they're taking us?" 

"Actually, I think they're taking us there." 

"Where?" 

"There, up ahead. That hovering float thing. With all those excited looking guys on it." 

"Maybe they're the rich folks. Got it from Stages'R'Us for a better view." 

"I don't think so. From the way they're waving at us, I'm pretty sure we're going to be joining them for, uhm, whatever. Maybe we won some kind of lottery, or it's a carnival." 

"A carnival, how fabulous. I'm tellin' ya Sandburg, if I end up looking like one of the village people, I will _not_ be happy." 

* * *

The ground beneath his feet shook as he strained to keep his balance. He fixed on the frantic heartbeat to his right, looking up to see Daniel teetering precariously on the crumbling ledge. Jim grabbed for him, catching one flailing arm just as the earth disappeared from beneath his feet. Then he was falling, tumbling down the steep incline, rolling and bouncing until he landed in a painful heap on top of a large and thorny bush. He grunted loudly as he was pressed into the sharp spines by Daniel's weight, landing hard on top of him. 

"Jackson, get off me would you?" 

"What? Oh god, sorry, I didn't realise. I'll just...uhm...oops sorry, I didn't mean to...uhm, put my hand, you know...there. Sorry." 

"Okay, not your fault, just please try not to...Oww, do _that_." 

"Sorry." After a few minor mishaps, Daniel eased himself away from Jim, and then turned to help him up from his uncomfortable situation. 

"Are you okay, Jim?" 

"I will be once we find Blair." 

"About that..." 

"It's strange. They can't have gone far in such a short time but I can't hear them. I should be able to hear them, or at least Blair. I can usually fix on his heartbeat, but I'm getting nothing. Maybe we should..." 

"Jim! They're not here." 

"What do you mean, they're not here. You said the pillar was a transportation device." 

"Clearly I was right, since we've been transported. I also said it wasn't random. Each symbol represents a different destination, and since we didn't hit the same symbol as Jack and Blair, we aren't in the same place." 

"And you couldn't tell me this before?" 

"If you remember, I did try. You're not easy to stop when you're determined." 

"So I've been told. Sorry, I should have listened. It's just, you know." 

"Yes, I know. I'm worried too." 

"Of course. You feel the same about O'Neill as I do about Blair." 

"Yes, I do. Jim, they'll be okay. Jack's damn good at this kind of thing, and I know he'll take good care of Blair." 

"Yes. I know. But still." 

"I know. We'll find them." 

"How? I didn't see which symbol Blair touched, did you?" 

"No, but he was saying that it looked like something, so I was hoping you might recognise one that would be familiar to him." 

"It's worth a try. If all else fails, we can simply try every one till we find them." 

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea. We were lucky this time, but..." 

" _You_ may have been lucky. We didn't all get a soft landing." 

"You got a little scratched is all; it could have been a lot worse." 

"A _little_ scratched? Are you kidding?" 

"Oh don't whine. At least we're alive. What if the pillar had been buried in a landslide? We could have materialised inside solid rock. These pillars have been around for a long time so we can't assume that all of them are still viable." 

"It's worth the risk to get Blair back." 

"You can't help him if you're dead, Jim. Anyway, it's senseless arguing about it when we have options. First thing we need to do is get back up there." Daniel pointed to the cliff top where the pillar now sat uncomfortably close to the edge. 

"I don't suppose we have a rope?" 

"Unless you have one concealed about your person, no." 

"Wonderful." 

"This probably isn't a good time to mention my fear of heights." 

"Perfect, just perfect." 

* * *

Blair squeaked as two scantily clad women laughingly tugged off his jacket. Looking over, he could see that Jack was suffering a similar fate. What the hell was going on here? Now they were taking his shirt and T, and two more were after his boots. Mercifully, that's where it stopped, allowing him to keep his pants. 

"Sandburg, get an explanation, now. And get our stuff back. I want my gun, dammit." 

"I've been trying. They seem to think we volunteered for this." 

"Funny, I don't recall volunteering to have my clothes and possessions pilfered." 

"If I understood correctly, and it's entirely possible I didn't, then we automatically volunteered by coming through the pillar. But seriously, how bad can it be. All these other guys are up for the same thing, and they seem happy with the situation." 

"Maybe they don't have a clue what's going on either. Hell, this could be the local version of fleecing the tourists." 

Blair cringed, wondering if Jack had any idea how intimidating he looked standing there bare chested, hands on hips. Even the friendly natives, who had been happily slapping Blair's shoulder and ruffling his hair, were giving him a wide berth. 

"I'm sorry; I'm doing the best I can." 

Jack was beginning to feel somewhat sheepish. He really didn't mean to bully Blair. He had always hated the kind of man who used his power to browbeat those he should be protecting and now here he was, doing the very same thing. "No, I'm sorry. Look, Sandburg...Blair, I'm not blaming you. I appreciate that no one is currently threatening us, but you wouldn't believe how quickly our circumstances could turn. I _need_ to know what the deal is here, and you're my best bet for getting that information. I wouldn`t be pushing you for answers if I wasn`t confident in your ability to make sense of the situation." 

Blair's eyes widened in surprise. He took a few deep breaths, admitting to himself that he too was somewhat nervous of this bizarre state of affairs. Looking around the large room they had been brought to, his eye fell on the cloaked figures that stood quietly by the door. "Colonel, maybe I could get some information from them. They seem to be in charge around here." 

"Oh yeah, the Jedi. I saw them come in a few minutes ago. Go for it; and why don't you call me Jack." 

"Oh, okay, uh, Jack, I'll just go...uhm..." Blair waved his hands towards the door, and then started to push his way through the pack. 

He reached the cloaked figures just as a loud gong sounded, seemingly the symbol for the men in the room to begin yelling and shoving. Alarmed, Jack pushed forward, anxious to reach Blair. 

The doors opened and the resultant surge toward it carried Blair forward. The men in cloaks plucked out the first five, one of whom was Blair and began escorting them from the room. Blair gestured frantically, protesting that all he wanted was information. 

Finally, Jack broke through, reaching out for Blair. A large hand on his chest stopped him. He fought it, but it was no use. As soon as he showed signs of disruptive behaviour, several large guards moved to subdue him, holding him back as Blair was spirited away from him. 

* * *

**PART 3**

Jim lay onto his back, breathing heavily. The climb had been considerably tougher than he had expected, the loose crumbling soil unable to bear much weight. Several times a possible hand or foothold had broken away, leaving him scrambling for purchase. 

Rolling onto his stomach, he leaned over the edge to haul Daniel to safety. 

"Okay Jackson, let's get to it." 

"Daniel." 

"What?" 

"My name. Daniel. I know I'm closer to Blair than to you, but I was hoping we were becoming friends." 

"Friends has nothing to do with it. I love Blair and I still call him Sandburg." 

"Oh. Okay. Shall we get on then? Do any of these symbols look familiar, or like they might be familiar to Blair?" 

"I'm not sure. The weirdest things look familiar to him. This one here looks kinda like an Oscar, don't you think?" 

"Maybe a little. Is there nothing more personal?" 

"What, like a little birth sign or something?" 

"I have no idea. It could be something that looks like a stain on the bathroom wall." 

"We don`t have any stains on the bathroom wall; we don't have any stains anywhere. Look, surely there's another..." Jim paused, tilting his head to one side, his expression one of intense concentration. 

"Jim, what is it? You're not zoning are you? Blair told me about how that happened, but we never got as far as how to pull you out. Jim, please don't be zoning." 

"I'm not zoning. There's something wrong. I can feel...it's weird, like a tingling, and...I think...oh god...earthquake." 

"What, now? Are you sure?" 

"Yes. We need to get out of here. Fast." 

"Okay, we'll have to go with the Oscar." 

"But I was just guessing." 

"It doesn't matter; it's the best we've got. Touch it." 

Daniel and Jim reached out together, their fingers brushing as they hit the symbol. The shimmering began just as the ground began to shake, and by the time the pillar tumbled over the cliff, they were gone. 

* * *

The doors remained unyielding no matter how hard he pounded on them. It seemed an age since Blair and four others had been culled from the herd and carried off by the guys in cloaks, ably assisted by their muscle-bound lackeys. In fact, it was only a few minutes, but Jack's unease made each of those minutes feel like hours. 

Those remaining in the room watched him apprehensively. Clearly, his anxious behaviour was unusual in this situation. Finally, one brave soul stepped forward to pat him soothingly on the back, speaking sympathetically and pointing at the long wall facing the doors. 

"Ich hight Wolfer. Comestow, see thy feres aventure. Haf fey, certes hasthem qharichakuy." 

"Look, buddy, I have _no_ idea what you just said, and frankly, I don't care. Unless you know a way to get these doors open, then we have nothing to talk about." 

Tapping his own chest, the man repeated, "Wolfer, Ich hight Wolfer." 

"Yeah, right. Jack. Nice to meet ya Wolfer. Sorry I don't have time...look pal, leave the arm alone. I don't have time to..." 

Insistent, the man indicated the wall, urging him towards it. As he did so, it flickered and disappeared, in its place stood one of the biggest TV screens Jack had ever seen. 

"Television, you want me to watch television while Sandburg is missing? Are you nuts?" 

"See, Jack, see thy feres." 

"See my what? Hey, that's Sandburg. What the hell?" 

Blair was one of five men standing on a tall platform. Above their heads ran a network of brightly coloured ropes. As a gong sounded, the other four reached up to take a firm hold on the nearest rope. Seeing them, Blair did likewise, obviously confused and nervous. 

He wasn't the only one. A watching Jack looked hopefully at his helpful companion, but all he got was a ginning nod at the screen. Looked like he was going to have to wait for enlightenment. But not for long. 

A second gong sounded and the platform fell away. Blair and his companions were left hanging over some very large and very nasty looking spikes. Jack gasped in shock as the rest of the room's inhabitants began to cheer and applaud. Several nudged Jack, gesturing at the screen and beaming happily. Did they really think he enjoyed seeing his friend in such danger? 

"See, see. Certes qharichakuq artem wights. Artow not joyful?" 

Clearly they did. What the hell was with this place? Jack returned his attention to the screen, heart in his mouth as one of the men lost his grip and fell to his death. Not Blair; thank god not Blair. Jack reached out, touching the image of Blair, the picture rippling around his searching fingers. There was absolutely nothing he could do to help. Whatever was happening here, Blair was on his own, and all Jack could do was wait in this damned room and hope like hell that Blair would not let go. 

* * *

**PART 4**

Jim could feel his lungs burn as he fought to reach the circle of light. He heard Daniel break the surface an instant before his own head was above water, finally allowing him to draw in the air he craved. Treading water, he looked at Daniel, neither of them saying a word as they turned and swam for the beach. 

"I guess that wasn't the right symbol." Daniel squeezed the water from his sodden jacket, shaking his head to try and clear his clogged ears. "At least, they`re _not_ anywhere here, are they?" 

"No. There's only us." 

"Terrific. So much for Oscar." 

"Yeah. That has to be the dumbest representation of a beach I've ever seen." 

"It's a sanctuary." 

"What?" 

"This beach. It's a sanctuary. Look. See all those small alcoves in the rock? Each one contains an icon of some sort. Statues, talismans, effigies, even flowers and pictures. It's clearly some kind of place of worship. Most likely a shrine to whatever local god; or perhaps a memorial." 

"Some of those flowers are fresh, but how can that be when the pillar is under several metres of water?" 

"It's submerged _now_ , but probably not all the time. I guess the population of this planet know to wait till the tide goes out. Which I think it's doing now." 

"You're right; the water was definitely further up the beach a few minutes ago." 

"So, we have to wait until the pillar is accessible." 

Jim frowned, not at all happy with the delay. "Dammit, I hate standing around doing nothing while Blair is in danger." 

"You know, he might not be. For all we know, he and Jack may already be back at the Stargate. And don't forget Sam and Teal'c. They'll be looking too." 

"I know. I just wish...I mean, what do we do when we _can_ get to the pillar? Looking for something Blair _might_ find familiar wasn't exactly a resounding success." 

"No. I have a new plan. I think we should go back to the original pillar." 

"I am not giving up the search for Blair." 

"I'm not asking you to. I'm just saying we have a better chance of identifying the symbol back where we started. Look, I still have a lot to learn about Sentinels, but is it possible you could sense some kind of heat signature from the section Blair touched?" 

"Pheromones." 

"What?" 

"Pheromones. We had a case once where I kept feeling these hot spots at the scene of the crime. Turns out I was sensing residual pheromones from...uh...from one of the perps. So yeah, it's certainly worth a try." 

"Good. Even if it doesn't work, we can narrow down the possibilities by working out where Blair was standing when he disappeared." 

Jim nodded his agreement, beginning to feel more hopeful. If only..."I wish there was some way we could get started straight away." 

"Me too, but it won't help anyone if we keep falling from one disaster into another. I need to get a good look at those symbols so that I can correctly identify the symbol for the Stargate." 

"Do you think the tide will go out soon?" 

"I have no idea. This is an alien planet. Standard tidal rules don't apply." 

* * *

"Man, this is _so_ not good." Blair hung on grimly, desperately willing his hands not to sweat. After one terrified look down when the platform had dropped, he had kept his eyes fixed firmly on the ropes above his head. Surely, this was way too harsh a punishment for simply travelling through the pillar, yet he couldn't imagine what other explanation there could be for this torture. 

He closed his eyes tight as another man lost the battle and fell. He wished he could block out his hearing too so that he would not have to listen to the dying man whimpering in agony. Raising his voice, he aimed his rising anger at the cheering mob. "Dammit, what is _wrong_ with you people. That man is dying and you think it's a joke? God, this can't be happening." How could civilised people find delight in the spectacle of a man's painful death? 

He knew he shouldn't be so shocked. He knew that in times past, in fact in times present in many cultures, public executions and punishment were common occurrences. Somehow, this was worse. Not only because he was the one currently being persecuted, but because of the air of absolute enjoyment displayed by the crowd. Plainly, they were here to be entertained and for no other reason. 

"No, please, no. I can't, this is too much. I have to let go, I have to...oh god, Jim. Jim needs me. Hold on for Jim, I can hold on for Jim. I can." 

If it weren't for Jim, he would have already let go. But he simply couldn't bear the thought of Jim believing that he would abandon him. Somewhere, Jack might be watching, and when this was all over, he would be able to tell Jim that Blair had done everything in his power to survive; to stay with him. So he would hold on for as long as he possibly could, and if he fell, it would be because his body failed him. Never because he had lost hope. 

"What the hell?" Eyes flying open in shock, Blair looked around frantically for the source of the sudden shuddering of the ropes. "Hey, what are you doing, are you nuts?" In disbelief, he saw that the only other surviving man was deliberately bouncing and swinging, twisting and swaying. The only explanation that Blair could come up with was that the man was trying to dislodge him, but why would he do that? Weren't they in this together? 

Abandoning useless speculation, Blair turned all his energies into simply hanging on. He tightened his grip painfully, allowing his body to relax and swing freely. As he showed no signs of releasing his hold the other man became more desperate, more reckless. He swung his legs up, wrapping them around the rope and jerking up and down energetically. Unfortunately for him his forcefulness was a mistake. The rope on which he hung, unable to take the strain, snapped loose, spilling him down onto the waiting spikes. 

The snapped rope coiled itself around the others like a snake, seeming to reach for Blair. He knew this was it; his hands were numb, his arms aching with strain. "Oh Jim, I'm so sorry." Blair started to open his hands. Before he could fall a golden crane came trundling out of the wings, swinging out a massive net to scoop Blair up like a butterfly. 

Slowly the net lowered, tipping Blair gently out onto the ground. Several cloaked figures ran forward, slapping Blair on the back and raising his arms triumphantly. The crowd roared as a stunned and silent Blair was led from the arena to disappear behind the lush red curtains. 

* * *

"Can you see it yet?" 

"Yeah. It's about a metre or so from the surface." 

"Soon then." 

"Yeah. I hate this waiting. Is there _nothing_ we can do?" 

"I guess we could play `I Spy'?" 

"Funny, Jackson." 

"They'll be okay, Jim. In fact, Blair's probably already interpreted the correct symbol for the Stargate and they're back safe and sound and worrying about _us_. God knows, Jack can do worry better than anyone I've ever known. Although you come damn close." 

"And you're almost as irritating as Sandburg." 

"Hey, are we bonding now?" 

Jim felt his mouth twitch in a reluctant smile. It amazed him how Daniel, who was in so many ways the complete opposite of Blair, could at times remind him so strongly of his friend. 

"You know..." Jim broke off, turning a still, searching look at the tree line beyond the beach. 

"Jim, what is it? God, it's not another earthquake is it?" 

"No, not an earthquake. Something's coming." 

"What kind of something? Good something, or big nasty something?" 

"I'm thinking big nasty." 

"How lovely. More to the point how close?" 

"Hard to tell, it doesn't sound...it's not, I mean, it's more like a vibration, the kind of sound you feel rather than hear." 

"Okay. Big vibrating nasty, on its way here. I don`t see the need to wait for the pillar to be completely above water. I'm sure I can see enough to make out the symbols, and I can always dive." 

"Good plan." 

At first, the gradient was shallow, so they had to wade for some distance. A few metres from the pillar they reached a sudden drop off, where Jim paused to look back. The sound was clearer now; a deep droning that chilled his blood. The darkness between the trees seemed denser, almost visceral. 

"Jim?" 

"You go on. I'll wait here, keep watch." 

"Okay." 

"Daniel?" 

"Yes?" 

"Translate fast." 

Once Jim was sure that Daniel was safely at the pillar, diving and circling but never touching, he turned back to watch for anything that might threaten. With a start, he realised that what he had thought to be a trick of the light was no illusion. The shadows were breaking free of the undergrowth to bleed across the sand. 

Focussing his sentinel sight, he gaped in shock as he saw clearly the source of his unease. No big monster, but rather a malevolent mass of fat spidery creatures. They writhed together, hissing and snapping, each one emitting a constant resonating hum that seeped through Jim's skin and tore at his guts. . 

Revolted, Jim Stepped back, swimming as fast as he could to Daniel. Already the area beyond the surf was black with them as they scrambled over one another to infest the sea. They were out of time. 

"Jackson!" 

"What? Oh god, what is that?" 

"Small nasties, lots of small nasties. And they can swim. Please tell me you have the symbol." 

"I have the symbol. Come on" Daniel gripped Jim hand as he dived down, pressing his hand firmly against the pillar and salvation. 

* * *

**PART 5**

So, now it was his turn. When the black cloaks had failed to return Blair, instead taking five others, he had guessed that this time would come. Holding back as long as possible, he had tried to assess the potential threat, but there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to these bizarre ordeals. Each time, five were taken to participate in whatever lethal competition. 

Incredibly, most of the men seemed eager for their turn, running forward excitedly every time the selection process occurred. A few seemed more anxious so Jack stuck close to them, reasoning that his chances of winning any encounter were greatly improved if his opponents were afraid and apprehensive. 

Looking around now, he knew he was right. The four men lined up next to him at the poolside were decidedly nervous, sweating and shaking in fear. He didn't blame them. Stationed around the walkway above the pool were a number of the musclemen, all heavily armed, and all aiming their weapons at Jack and his companions. 

Looking back at the deep water, he had a fair idea of what to expect. At the first gong, he started taking deep even breaths, filling his lungs with oxygen in preparation for what was to come. At the second, he leapt into the water, allowing himself to sink down deep. 

One unfortunate had tried to take one final breath, but had instead inhaled a lungful of water. Coughing and spluttering he rose to the surface only to be met with a bombardment of energy bolts, killing him instantly. 

Jack couldn't afford to feel pity for him. He knew he had to see this as an advantage. One down and three to go. It may be callous, but the truth was that every man that failed improved Jack's chances for survival. And Jack fully intended to survive. No way was he going to leave Daniel trekking around the universe without him. God knows what trouble he could get into. 

To his right he saw another of the men begin to panic. He pushed as far away from him as possible to avoid his flailing arms. The move almost certainly saved him as the terrified man latched onto the nearest competitor, the two struggling together before breaking the surface to the sound of certain death. 

Jack's lungs felt as if they would explode, the need for air overriding all other considerations. It was almost impossible to stop himself from taking that one vital breath. Looking around he could see that the other was in similar difficulties. All he had to do was hold on for a few more seconds. 

He began to feel light headed, an all-encompassing blackness pervading his vision. He could feel his body starting to rise and urgently tried to force himself downwards, but it was no use; his strength was gone. He saw Daniel in front of him, those beautiful eyes begging him to stay, to try just that little bit longer, and so he did. How could he not? How could he ever refuse Daniel when he looked at him like that? 

That extra little bit of effort was all he needed. He burst out of the water scant moments after his last rival, the energy bolts passing over him and striking the other man. 

Hands reached out to pull him from the pool as he gasped for breath, the crowd's ovation roaring in his ears. For now at least, it was over, but who could say what would happen next? He could only hope that he would now be taken to Blair so that the two of them could face together whatever would come. 

* * *

The two startled airmen jumped to attention, P-90's at the ready as the two men burst forth in a shower of glistening raindrops. 

"Doctor Jackson, Sir, how did..." 

"Oh, hey, Fry, isn't it, and Warren?" 

"Yes Sir. Major Carter ordered us to guard the gate." 

"Right. I don't suppose Colonel O'Neill and Blair Sandburg have shown up?" 

"No Sir. They weren't with you?" 

"No." 

"They're not back, Jackson." 

"No." 

"That symbol you found for the Stargate was obvious." 

"I know." 

"I realise Blair hasn't been doing this for as long as you, but he's smart. He would have worked that one out, no problem." 

"I know." 

"Unless something prevented him from trying." 

"I know, Jim." 

"I know you know. I'm just..." 

"Worried. I know. So let's find them. Fry." 

"Sir?" 

"Fry, we need to work out where Colonel O'Neill and Blair went. Why don't you contact Major Carter and whoever else is in on this search and get them back here." 

"Yes Sir." 

As the young airman spoke into his radio, Daniel drew Jim over to the pillar. 

"Okay, from what I remember, Blair was standing about here, right?" 

"More or less." 

"So you need to do this pheromone check in this general area." 

Jim nodded, holding out his hand and passing it close to the stone surface. After so much time had passed he had little hope of this working, so he was astonished when a faint tingle ran up his arm. Pulling his hand back, he took a good look at the symbol that had caused the reaction. 

"Hey, that looks like the sign outside our favourite Chinese takeaway in Cascade." 

"Then that must be it. Good job, Jim." 

"It was a smart idea." 

"No Jim, wait." 

Jim, keen to try the symbol, frowned as Daniel stopped him. "Dammit Jackson, we need to get to them. They're in trouble." 

"Exactly. We have no idea what we're going to face when we go through the pillar, so we need to be prepared." 

"Yes, of course you're right. I wasn't thinking. Simon was always telling me to wait for backup." 

"Did you ever?" 

"I think I did once. At least, I was going to, but it didn't work out." 

"Why don't you get our packs and weapons while I brief Fry and Warren? If we fail I want Sam to know what's going on." 

"Why don't you contact Major Carter yourself? You have a radio, don`t you?" 

"I thought of that, and I would like to talk to her and Teal'c, but she might go trying to order me to stay here. I would hate to make her feel bad by ignoring her orders." 

"That never seems to bother you where O'Neill`s concerned." 

"I follow Jack's orders. Unless they make no sense, in which case, obviously it's my duty to point out their futility." 

"Damn, O'Neill was right about you." Chuckling, Jim moved off to collect their kit. 

"What? Right about me? What's he been saying? Dammit, Jack O'Neill and I are going to have to have a little talk once this is over. He just better have a good explanation for bad-mouthing me." 

* * *

Blair ran to Jack the moment he was through the door. Reaching out, he grabbed his arm as if to assure himself that Jack was truly safe. 

"Oh god, Jack, I was watching...you...the water, I thought, oh god." 

"Hey, c'mon, I'm fine. It wasn't so bad." 

"But, drowning, it's, when you can't breathe and everything is...is crushing you so..." 

"Sandburg, what the hell...oh dammit." Abruptly, a paragraph from Blair's file popped into his head. Blair had drowned. He had been held under the water until his heart stopped and his struggles stilled. And now he had been forced to watch while Jack almost suffered the same fate. God. 

"Blair, Look, I realise how difficult that must have been for you to watch, but it's over now. I'm okay and we have to move on." 

"I know, it's just...you know, the water. I could never have..." 

"Well thank god you didn't have to. You had a hard enough time as it was." 

"I was so scared Jack. When that guy tried to shake me off, then his rope broke, I thought..." 

"Sandburg, you did good." 

Blair blushed, surprised and pleased. 

"So, did you find out anything more about what's going down here?" 

"Yes. It's a game. They call it Munapakuy." 

"A game? They do this for fun? That's nuts." 

"Yeah. Takes place every year and has been going on for generations." 

"No-one complains?" 

"No, seems it's some kind of tradition." 

"Unbelievable." 

"This thing is planet wide. They broadcast the pictures to every inhabited part of their world, and men come from all over to compete. It's a great honour to take part, and from what I can gather, all those who die are virtually guaranteed a free pass into the afterlife." 

"I guess that explains why all these guys are so enthusiastic." 

"I guess." 

"What about the winner, what does he get?" 

"Pretty much anything he wants for the rest of his life." 

"Hell of an incentive." 

"Yeah. It's why we got all those congratulations for getting in." 

"Yeah, about that, I don't recall putting in an application for this money pack thing." 

"It doesn't quite work like that. They put out this call...you know, phone lines are open now kind of thing, then the first hundred and twenty-five guys through the pillar are in. We were numbers one hundred twenty-four and five." 

"Well isn't that special. Any chance we can just quit?" 

"I doubt it. The game holds almost religious significance." 

"How did I know you were going to say that? So what happens now?" 

"We're through round one, now we move on to round two." 

"Which is?" 

"Basically the same as round one, only with different tests." 

"God, how many ways are there to kill a guy?" 

"I know. It's scary to think that it's someone's job to think these things up." 

"Do they just keep picking us off until there's no-one left?" 

"No, after the next round...after that the last five have to, uhm, fight." 

"What, each other?" 

"Yes, and there'll be other stuff trying to get us too." 

"What kind of _stuff_?" 

"I don't know. Whatever the organisers can think up." 

"Considering what they've already thought up, that does not instil me with confidence." 

"No. Jack, I don't think I can fight to the death. I've never..." 

"Getting ahead of yourself Sandburg. We can worry about that when it happens. If it happens. You know they'll be looking for us by now, so it's just a matter of time before the cavalry gets here." 

"I know they'll be trying Jack, but they don't know where we are. I'm pretty sure that each symbol on the pillar represents a different destination, and they don't know which one we've gone to." 

"Daniel will work it out; he always does. Trust me; he's good at the impossible stuff. In the meantime, we need to make sure we get through the next round. When they come for us, I'm going to volunteer." 

"No, Jack, we have to wait. You said yourself that they could come at any time. Why risk yourself when you may not have to." 

"Sandburg, listen, we can't be in the same group. The only way to ensure that is if I go first. You try to be in the last group." 

"But..." 

"Do I have to make it an order?" 

"You can't order me, I'm not military." 

"When we're off world I can order you. C'mon Blair, you have to trust me." 

"I do, I just...I don't want you to be hurt." 

Ruffling Blair's hair, Jack smiled down at him, needing to alleviate his distress. "I'll be fine; we're going to get through this." God, he could do puppy eyes almost as well as Daniel. Who knew? 

A jovial laugh bellowed in his ear and the firm slap on the back nearly knocked him over. "Jack, Artow well?" 

Blair sniggered behind his hand. "I see you've met Wolfer." 

"Oh yeah, he and I are old friends. Wolfer, you made it. Cool." 

"Comestow tura, drede not, only bibe deep." 

"Sandburg?" 

"Chill out buddy and drink up." 

"Sandburg." 

"That's what he said; chill out and drink up." 

"You`re kidding. Are you sure?" 

"Pretty sure. I think I'm getting the hang of this language. It's kinda like talking to teenagers." 

"That would explain why I can never understand the pizza kid." 

"See, tura Jack, Blair. See how fair art yon wenchlys." 

"What the hell is a wenchlys?" 

"Whoa. I think it's the entertainment." Blair tapped Jack's arm, drawing his attention back to the screen. A number of scantily clad and overly endowed young women were cavorting shamelessly with what appeared to be very large stuffed animals. Creepy. 

"Is that a racoon?" 

"Could be. See there, it`s...uh...what are those cartoon chipmunks called?" 

"Huey, Dewey and Louie." 

"Aren't they Donald Duck's nephews?" 

"Could be, in which case I have no idea who the chipmunks are." 

"Well, whatever, those guys there look like them." 

"Maybe they're not guys at all. Maybe they really are giant dancing furry animals. Chip `n Dale." 

"Excuse me?" 

"Chip `n Dale; the cartoon chipmunks." 

"Cool. So, either Chip or Dale must be feeling frisky. See what he's doing with that blonde?" 

"Eeeuw, I _so_ didn't need to see that. Wolfer buddy, be gentle with the back pounding. I`ve had a hard day." 

"He seems to be enjoying the show." 

"Why wouldn't he be? Those girls are _hot_. Right Wolfer? Excellent wenchlys, huh?" Pointing at the screen, Jack gave a thumbs up sign, nodding his approval. 

"Eee, benedicte, wouldst I root yon." Wolfer's fulsome praise started a round of much nodding and unmistakable anatomical gesturing. 

"Pardee, art yon wenchlys lictious basoomy." 

"Now, see, that I get." 

* * *

**PART 6**

"They're not here." 

"No, but they were. I tried that pheromone thing again, and I definitely get a trace of Sandburg on the pillar here." 

"Then where are they? I see no obvious signs of danger." 

"I see no obvious signs of anything. This place is deserted. Yet it's clearly an inhabited city, so where is everybody?" 

"I don`t know; market day? Can you detect anyone at all?" 

"I'm picking up some heartbeats over in that direction. Let's go." 

"Jim, you speak Quechua, don't you?" 

"Yeah, why?" 

"It could come in handy if these people are descended from ancient Aztecs." 

"The writing on these signposts doesn't look very...uh...Aztecey to me." 

"Aztecan. And no, it doesn't. It looks more like early English. Strange. The symbols at the temple were definitely Aztec in origin. I wonder what..." 

Jim halted Daniel, nodding at a row of what appeared to be shops. "There are some people over there." 

"Why don't we try that one first? Those look like of some sort vehicles he`s selling. If Jack and Blair have been taken any distance we could use one." 

"Great. We come to an alien world and go car shopping. You know, I think the military worry too much about discretion. Even if we talked about this, no-one would believe us." 

"Someone always believes the unbelievable. Why do you think the psychic hotline is so popular?" 

Music sounded as they walked onto the shops forecourt. Irritating lift music. It appeared that some things were universal. Literally universal in this case. The loud musak brought a small tubby man in checks with unfortunate hair scurrying toward them, nodding happily. 

"Ah, napayku good folk, napayku. Ich hight Harrald. It liketh me to proffer thee entente." 

"Napayku is sort of Quechua for..." 

"Greetings, I know. The rest is definitely English. The two cultures must have been mixed at some point. Fascinating. Sir... we...uhm, Ich hight Daniel." 

"Ah, Daniel, napayku tura." 

"Napayku Harrald. We are late come from our, uh, viage, and seek...seke our, uh, our companions...feeres. " 

"Ah, thine feeres, seistow. Ywis, two folk attired as thee even now are willaq at Munapakuy." 

The words sounded familiar to Jim, yet incomprehensible. "Ambition, they're anointed in ambition? What the hell does that mean?" 

"I have no idea. From the way he said it, it sounds like they're involved in some sort of game. Maybe they`ve been chosen somehow to compete. Since he`s used Quechua forms to describe it, it could be some kind of ancient tradition." 

"Why would that be?" 

"English appears to have superseded all things Aztec, so anything in Quechuan is in all probability a remnant of an earlier civilisation." 

"So their competing in some game. Where?" Turning the little man, Jim raised his eyebrows and held out his hands, palm upwards in a questioning gesture. Harrald clearly understood, nodding and gesturing down the wide road, which ran through the centre of the city to disappear into the horizon. 

"At suntiyuana. Many furlongs." 

"Suntiyuana? That sounds familiar but I can`t place it. Jackson, do you know what it means?" 

"I think it could be a corruption of the word for amphitheatre. Whatever it is, it's some distance from here. I'm going to try and negotiate the purchase of a vehicle." 

"With what?" 

"Whatever we have." 

Walking over to the nearest vehicle, a strange contraption that resembled a hovering chariot minus the horses and wheels. He contemplated it thoughtfully, counting on the fact that even an alien salesman would be keen to make a sale. He was right, Harrald bouncing over and beaming enthusiastically. 

"Artow a wight of good reed. Certes yow wiste thy chariots. See, how parfit, how eset is yon. Much delit will she give thee." 

"Sold. How much?" 

"Jim..." 

"Come on Jackson, look at the guy. He knows we want it. We don't have time to mess around, so just find out what he wants, and then talk him into taking what we have." 

"I'll try. Ancient English isn't my speciality. My only real source of reference is that I once read the Canterbury tales." 

Smiling at the man, Daniel pointed to the chariot, indicating that he agreed that it was a superior vehicle. "Indeed, very, uh, eset. Uh, dammit, I have _no_ idea how to ask for a price." 

Jim stepped up, rubbing his thumb and fingers together, and then shrugging. Once again, his body language did the trick, Harrald nodding and ushering them into his office. 

"Please, come. Hastow gelt?" 

"Gelt...money, uh, no, no money. We desire...uh...trade?" 

"Trade?" 

"Damn. Jim, what's the Quechuan word for bargain?" 

"Try chalay. That means barter." 

"Ah, chalay, certes, certes. Hastow goods?" 

"Looks like we're in business, Jackson." 

"Yeah, better start turning out your pockets. I have a feeling this is not going to be cheap." 

* * *

Jack examined the strange object he had been handed. It was about the size of a staff weapon, with a padded lump on either end. In fact, it resembled nothing so much as a large Q-tip. 

A prod between his shoulder blades urged him onto the ladder that led to a network of transparent foot wide catwalks. He bounced slightly, getting a feel for the weight of his Q-tip and the flexibility of the catwalk. 

At the first gong, the platform fell away. "Ah, the return of the spikes. Must be running out of ideas." 

At the second gong, Jack moved to a defensible position and waited. He could see one of his opponents doing likewise, while two more converged on the fifth. They attacked him from two sides, overbalancing him easily and tipping him off the catwalk. Dropping his Q-tip, the man caught hold of the edge, hanging on for all he was worth. A hard stamp to the fingers soon put a stop to that, and then his two attackers were left to fight each other. They were well matched, sparring vigorously, neither able to gain the upper hand. 

Feeling a vibration along the catwalk, Jack instantly turned to face the final competitor, who had decided to abandon his waiting game and attack immediately. Jack balanced his weapon, using it as he would a regular staff, ignoring the padded ends for the time being. "Okay, let's go to it. There can be only one, right? Well, believe me, buddy, that _one_ is going to be me." 

* * *

Daniel grimaced at their pile of belongings laid out on the table. Jim had already lost interest and wandered away, leaving Daniel to get what they needed. A seemingly impossible task since it appeared that everything they had was not enough. Harrald had been amused by the digital camera, and at one point, it looked as if Daniel's palmtop computer would tip the scales in their favour, but no. 

"Oh my god." 

"Jim, what is it?" 

"I've found O'Neill." 

"He's here? Where?" 

"Look." 

Daniel hurried over to where Jim stood in front of a huge screen. As he neared, he could see what appeared to be some sort of game taking place in a huge arena. He saw Jack, wearing nothing but his combat pants and fighting off an attack from a man wielding a huge Q-tip. For a moment, the relief that Jack was alive and apparently safe obscured all else. Then he saw the spikes. 

"Oh god, Jack." 

"Daniel, he's doing well; he's winning." 

"Spikes, there's a man impaled on the spikes. Oh god." 

"I know, but O'Neill is trained for this sort of thing. He..." 

"He isn't trained to fight off attacks with Q-tips. Q-tips form _no_ part of Air Force training." 

"At least he's alive. I still don't know what's happened to Blair." 

"I'm sorry, you're right. We need to get to them as soon as we can. Keep watching and call me if...you know." 

"Yeah, I will. And Daniel, find out what you can about this damn game." 

Daniel ran back to Harrald, gesturing frantically at their possessions, the chariot, and the screen, until finally Harrald nodded in agreement. Then Daniel was back at the screen, eyes glued to Jack. 

"He agreed to sell us a chariot?" 

"Not exactly." 

"Then what?" 

"I made a bet. Everything we have on Jack to win." 

Jim reached out to pat his shoulder, offering his support as best he could. 

"Blair is alive." 

"Thanks, Jackson, I appreciate..." 

"No, he is. I asked Harrald. He said Blair won his first round and hasn't competed in the second round yet." 

Jim closed his eyes in relief. Blair was alive. He might not be okay yet, but he was resourceful. He would survive and then Jim would save him. A cheer from the screen and Daniel's gasp regained his attention. Two of the contestants had knocked each other off the catwalks, leaving only Jack and one other. 

Daniel barely blinked as Jack held his ground against his opponent. The other man was younger, very agile and very determined. He poked and prodded vigorously, forcing Jack backward, overbalancing him so that he dropped to his knees. That was his undoing. Thinking victory was his, he foolishly let down his guard, giving Jack the opportunity to strike. He went low, swinging his weapon at the backs of the other man's knees. It was enough. The young contestant wavered for several tense moments, and then toppled forward onto the spikes below. Jack had won. 

Sagging with relief, Daniel clung to Jim's shoulder until he could regain his equilibrium. Then, taking a deep breath, he turned radiant eyes to Jim. 

"He won. Jack won." 

"Yeah, and so did we. Let's go collect our chariot." 

"Chariots. Since I was betting anyway, I thought I might as well make it for two." 

"Good thinking. It could get pretty cramped with all four of us in the one. So, let's go get our chariots. Then let's go get our friends." 

* * *

**PART 7**

Well, this was different. Blair stood in the middle of the empty arena with his co-contestants. What were they expected to do this time? In every other `game' some kind of construction had been in evidence, something that would give the players a clue of what was to come, but this time there was nothing. 

"So what do we do now?" 

The first gong sounded and a low hum echoed in his ears. He could see a faint iridescent light flickering all around them. Bending down to pick up a handful of sandy earth, he tossed it at the light. The grains hovered for a moment before rebounding and falling to the ground. A force field. Interesting. "Thing is, is it there to keep us in, or something else out?" 

Numerous large wheeled containers lumbered out to sit ominously just beyond the barrier. Looking at his companions it was clear that they knew what was coming and that they weren't happy about it. At the second gong, he understood why. 

The first of the containers pushed forward slightly, the front breaching the barrier then opening to spill out its contents into the enclosed space. Blair recoiled in horror. They were small, scorpion sized, multi coloured and multi-clawed; and there were hundreds of them. 

As they poured out in a continuous stream, a second container began to advance. 

"Okay, stay calm, think this through. No-where to run so no point running. Best to go with the flow, become one with nature. I can do that. Focus, man. I'm a Shaman for god's sake." 

Taking a deep calming breath, Blair sank to the floor to sit cross-legged in the centre of the arena. He closed his eyes and let his mind centre, putting himself into a deep meditative state. He never flinched as the stream of scurrying insects swarmed toward him and flowed around him. 

He barely noticed as container after container opened, filling the enclosure with all manner of vile and lethal creatures. The cries of his opponents as they fell to the toxic bites and stings were beyond his hearing. His soul soared, free to transcend his fears and connect with the source of all things. 

He was at peace. 

* * *

Large screens adorned the outside walls of the stadium, blaring out music while images of the games flashed across them. Screens that currently featured Blair and some very nasty looking bugs. Jim leapt from his chariot, running for the entrance, intent on getting to Blair. Daniel cut him off, leaping on top of him, forcing him to listen. 

"Jim, wait, you can't go bursting in there. You could kill him." 

"Those things, they're crawling all over him, I have to..." 

"No, you don't. He's doing exactly the right thing. Look, really look. They're on him but they're not hurting him. If you go in there you're going to disturb his concentration enough for him to lose it, then they _will_ hurt him. And even if you get into the arena, how were you planning on getting through that...that, god what is that, a force shield?" 

"I have to try. I can't stand seeing him in danger." 

"Jim, you have to trust Blair. He's winning here, so just let him. Jim?" 

"Yes, okay, you can get off me now; I'll stay put." 

Daniel rolled off, helping Jim to his feet, then they both gave their attention to Blair. Daniel was right; he was winning. Already three contestants were dead or dying, while Blair continued to sit cross-legged in the centre of the enclosure. 

"You're right, Daniel. I can hear his heartbeat. It's slow and calm; he's in control." 

Clearly realising that Blair's strategy was working, another contestant was attempting to emulate him, copying his posture and trying to stay calm. Sadly, for him, meditation took more than pretence of composure. The sensation of being crawled on, the feel of furred or scaly bodies slithering over his skin was too much for him. He broke and ran, battering his fists uselessly against the unseen barrier. Within seconds, he was engulfed by the surging insects; pulled down and devoured. 

Jim shuddered, thankful that Blair had been unable to see the horror. Even more thankful that Blair had survived. 

As soon as Blair was the last man alive, a spray of vapour filled the bubble, felling the insects instantly. Then the barrier was gone, and Blair was being led through the curtains surrounding the arena. 

"It's over, he's through." 

"Yes. Can you track him?" 

"Yes. He's under the seating area. Now he's...I hear him talking to O'Neill." 

"He's with Jack?" 

"Yes." 

Jim listened closely, smiling. 

"So, what are they saying?" 

"You were right; O'Neill _is_ looking out for him." 

* * *

Jack was pacing restlessly back and forth in front of the heavy doors, grabbing Blair and dragging him in the moment they opened. "Sandburg, are you okay. Those...things...they were all over you." 

"I'm okay, really. I mean, it's not something I would choose to do, but if I had to go through a trial, then that was the best option for me. No way could I have done what you did." 

"Then we've been lucky, because if I would have been freaking out in with the creepy crawlies. I don't know how you could stand it." 

"It was just a question of not letting myself panic. When you meditate, you allow your mind to become calm, focussed, and positive, less `in-the-way'. You can integrate your mind and body, letting the natural balance reassert itself so that you can connect with the universe." 

"That means _squat_ to me, but hey, as long as you knew it would work..." 

"I didn't for sure, but it was all I could think of. I was lucky enough to spend some time with an old Ute Shaman. He told me that the mind was like a candle flame: unstable, flickering, constantly changing, fanned by the violent winds of our emotions. It can only burn steadily when we calm the air around it; so we can only begin to glimpse the nature of the mind when we have stilled the turbulence of our thoughts and emotions. A mistake a lot of people make is in thinking that the meditative trance state takes you out of the world, whereas in fact it brings you more into it. He would put himself into a trance and in that altered state I saw him walk through a snake pit. I figured if I could do _that_ , then the bugs would treat me much as they would a...a tree stump; and they did." 

"Sounds kinda new agey." 

"Actually, the concept is primeval." 

"Well, I'm impressed. Well done, Sandburg." 

"I'm just glad we both survived." 

"I`m not arguing with that. Now all we gotta do is survive round three." 

"About that. I don't think I can do it. I don't want to let you down, but I just know when it comes to having to kill someone, I mean, I'm not a pacifist, Jim will tell you that I've always backed him up, but to go in there with the sole intention of...of _killing_ people...guys I've been talking to, and drinking with, I just don't think..." 

"Sandburg, breathe, okay? Look, I don't expect you to turn into the terminator. You said there would be weapons out there?" 

"Yes, but I don't know what." 

"Okay then. I'm guessing nothing too lethal or the game would be over pretty damn fast. So probably clubs, knives, stuff like that." 

"Probably, but Jack, I can't..." 

"Blair, just listen. I want you to grab yourself something defensive. A nice big pole maybe. Then you stay real close to me. You watch my back and hold off anyone who tries to get me from behind. I'll take care of the rest." 

"That doesn't seem fair. I mean, what right do I have to ask you to do what I won't." 

"Because it's my job. You`re not military, Sandburg, I am." 

"Looks like some things never change. I spent years not being a cop, now I'm going to not be military." 

"Well, you're not. Me Colonel, you anthropologist, remember?" 

"Yeah, I guess. Just, I want to do my share, you know?" 

"I know, and you have. Your `share' was to work out what was going on, mine is to protect you while you do it. I admit, I wasn't sure about you at first, but Daniel was right. He told me you would be an asset to the SGC and you are. You've performed as well as I could expect from anyone under my command, military or civilian. In fact, you kinda remind me of Daniel, and trust me, that's the best I can say of anyone. Now, let's can the insecurity, we don't have time for it. Once we get in that arena, it's down to us both to keep each other alive until they our backup gets here. How was that? Inspirational enough?" 

"Oh yes, very impressive." 

"Not too coach at half-timeish?" 

"Not at all. I feel a hundred times more confident now. Just give me a two by four and I'm ready to roll." 

"That's good, `cause the first challenge is on his way over here now, bearing drinks and munchies. Hey Wolfer, glad to see you made it. Come on Sandburg, like our friend said, chill out and drink up. For now we watch the hot chicks getting jiggy with the livestock and when it's time to fight we're gonna be ready, and we`re gonna win; I guarantee it." 

* * *

**PART 8**

"We need a plan." 

"Yes, and we need it now. This interval won't last long. What the hell kind of entertainment is this anyway? Whatever happened to marching bands?" 

"It's not so bad." 

"Are you kidding? It's like a porn show in a toyshop." 

"Okay, I admit that the dancing rodents are disconcerting, but what do you expect from people whose primary form of amusement is watching guys die horribly?" 

"True. Besides, I suppose the representation of animals in rituals _is_ traditional to primitive cultures. Still, this has to be the most disturbing floor show I've ever seen." 

"Did you find out what happens next from Harrald?" 

"Yes. Jack and Blair have now made it to the third trial. The final five contestants have to face each other in mortal combat. Essentially, a fight to the death where the last man standing wins." 

"They have to fight each other?" 

"Yes, and whatever the organisers send in. Apparently, they like to keep the contestants on their toes so send in anything they think might spice up the action. Harrald told me that once that it was a selection of wild beasts. That year, the winner didn't get to enjoy his victory for very long." 

"That's it." 

"What's it, wild beasts?" 

"You said they send in some surprises each year?" 

"Right. So?" 

"So, this year, what comes through those curtains will be us." 

"Okay, with you so far. Then what?" 

"Then we grab them and get out." 

"That's it, that's your plan? Grab and run?" 

"I always find it's better to keep things simple. Look, no one will be expecting a rescue since the contestants are usually there voluntarily, so with any luck, they'll assume at first that it's all a part of the game. By the time they realise what's going on, we should have a good head start. Have you ever been to a ball game at the final whistle? It's mayhem." 

"You're right. Jack forced me to go to a hockey match once and it took us hours to get out of the parking lot. I take it back; this is a great plan. We should go find the back entrance right away. Come on." 

"You know where it is." 

"No, but this is the front, so I'm guessing the back entrance is, you know, at the back." 

"Good guess." 

"We should get a disguise." 

Indicating the screens, Jim pointed out the dancing mascots. "You want to mug one of those chipmunks?" 

"Well, if you really want to carry out this rescue dressed as a cuddly plushie, then you go right ahead. Personally, I was thinking more along the lines of big cloaks, but hey, to each his own." 

"God Jackson, O'Neill warned me you could be a pain in the ass; he wasn't kidding." 

"You wound me, Jim, you really do. And Jack is _so_ dead." 

* * *

Blair stood back to back with Jack, spear held defensively in front of him. Jack's efficient handling of a broadsword had kept them relatively unmolested, the other contestants sparring tentatively with one another. So far little harm had been done, each man testing the skills of the others. 

"How you doing Blair?" 

"I'm fine. They don't look like they want to mess with us." 

"I wouldn't count on that lasting. If they have any kind of tactical experience at all then they'll realise that their best chance of taking us out is to work together. If they kill off each other first then the last one will be stuck with having to take on the both of us." 

"So they'll team up because we have?" 

"I would." 

"Yeah, but like you said, you're military, they're just game show contestants." 

"But it's the obvious course. Unless they're complete idiots. " 

"Jack, have you ever _watched_ a game show? Complete idiots about covers the level of intellect displayed by all concerned." 

"Dammit, how the hell am I supposed to threat asses a game for crying out loud?" 

"Oh god, what are those?" 

Jack followed Blair's gaze to the objects which had emerged from behind the heavy curtains. 

"Whoa, I always wondered what happened to that big white ball from the Prisoner, now here it is and look, he's brought friends." 

One of the three amorphous white balls bounded toward the nearest contestant. As it touched him, a fork of light crackled between them and he was tossed across the arena like an old boot. 

"That must be one of the surprises in store for us." 

"Ya think? I say we avoid the big blobs." 

"Oh yeah, that did _not_ look fun. Oh _now_ what?" 

"More surprises?" 

"Yeah, and they're coming our way." 

Jack manoeuvred them around so that he could get a better look at this new danger. Two hovering vehicles, each manned by a cloaked figure had entered the fray. 

"Dammit, how come _both_ of them are coming after us? What's wrong with the other guys?" 

"Jack." 

"Daniel?" 

"Blair." 

"Jim?" 

"Daniel." 

"Jack, it's good to see you." 

"Good to see you too. I take it this is a rescue?" 

"That's right. Get as close as you can to the exit, make it look like you're avoiding us, okay?" 

"What's the plan, Daniel? I assume you have a plan?" 

"Yes, we have a plan. The plan is that you and Blair get to the exit." 

"Don't take that tone with me." 

"What tone?" 

"You know perfectly well what tone?" 

"I have no idea what tone." 

"Well, don't take it." 

"Jim, Can we leave now? Those balls are getting closer and I _so_ don't want to get blobbed." 

"Good idea. Guys, can we get on please?" 

"Okay, okay fine. Can't a guy even ask a simple question anymore? All I...Daniel, look out!" 

Daniel spun around, zat drawn and searching for a target. The ball was above him and descending rapidly as he fired. As the blast struck, it let out an almost human scream, quivering spasmodically as it hastily retreated. 

"I think we may have just blown our cover. Jack, get up here; Blair, you're with Jim." 

Jack leapt up behind Daniel, looking over to check that Blair was safely in position. He smiled as Blair wrapped his arms around Jim, leaning into him and pressing his face between Jim's shoulder blades. Then they were off, speeding towards then through the heavy curtains. 

* * *

"Daniel, shouldn't we get out of the building?" 

"Don't hassle me Jack. I`m doing the best I can here; this place is a rabbit warren." 

"We're lost?" 

"No. Jim, do you remember any of these passageways?" 

"How can I tell, they all look the same. We should have gone out the way we came in." 

"If you recall, the need for haste was an important factor." 

Rounding a corner at full speed, they came within an inch of a group of heavily muscled guards. Daniel and Jim recovered from the shock first, rapidly manoeuvring their chariots in a full turn before the guards could react. 

"Damn, that was close. Why don't you let me drive, Daniel?" 

"Why?" 

"Just, you know." 

"No, I don't know." 

"I'm the Colonel, dammit. I should be driving." 

"That's it? You're the Colonel so you should drive? Does being a Colonel give you divine insight into the workings of all alien technology?" 

"How hard can it be?" 

Actually, it was remarkably easy, but Daniel wasn't about to tell Jack that. "So, the fact that I have experience with this vehicle is irrelevant?" 

"How much experience can you possibly have?" 

"More than you. Now quit distracting me while I'm driving." 

"Uh, guys, this isn't getting us anywhere." 

"You got a better idea Sandburg?" 

"Yes, Jack, I do. Jim, I want you to concentrate on your sense of touch and smell. Look for anything that would indicate outside?" 

Jim did as instructed deliberately sniffing the air around them. He grinned triumphantly as he detected a faint scent of grass on the slight breeze drifting through the corridors. 

"Got it. This way." 

A few more twist and turns brought them bursting out into the large foyer, the exit in sight. Many startled heads swivelled their way as all available guards converged on them. Dodging expertly, Jim and Daniel were able to elude their pursuers. Weaving in and out of turnstiles and around ticket booths, they exploded out of the large and fortunately automatic doors into the sunlight beyond. 

* * *

"Can't you go any faster Daniel?" 

"I have no idea. There may be dozens of faster gears on this thing, but if there are, I haven't found them." 

"Ellison, how close are they?" 

"Close. You should be hearing them soon." 

The words were barely out of his mouth before Jack did, indeed hear the faint high-pitched whine. Seconds later a large vehicle, not unlike their chariot but built to accommodate at least half a dozen swung onto the road. All six aboard were heavily armed and preparing to fire. 

"Chief, by my feet." 

"What?" 

"The P-90. Get it." 

"Jim, I can't use that, I..." 

"Blair, get it and hand it over to Colonel O'Neill." 

"Oh, right, I can do that. Jack, here." 

Blair leaned out as far as he could, arm bearing the weapon fully extended. 

"Oh yeah, now we're cooking." Jack reached for it, taking a moment to commune with the cold metal before bringing it to bear on their pursuers. 

"O`Neill, try not to hurt them. Aim for the chariot." 

"What on earth for?" 

"They're just cops like I was. As far as they're concerned, we've broken their laws, we're armed and we could be dangerous. They're not the enemy here. It wouldn't be right to kill someone just for doing his job." 

"Fair enough, but if it's a question of us or them, it's gonna be them." 

Taking aim, Jack fired a rapid and deadly accurate round directly at the base of the chariot. It sparked a sizzled, wobbling precariously before crashing to the ground and skidding off the road. Before he could celebrate his success, however, two more pulled onto the wide road and sped after them in hot pursuit. 

"Dammit, is there _no_ other crime going on today? I mean, all we did was quit a game for crying out loud, how could that possibly rate all this attention." 

"It's like I told you before Jack, this game holds some sort of religious significance. It's kind of like sacrilege for us to behave in this way. I'm not surprised they're so mad at us." 

"It's a _game_ Sandburg." 

"So was throwing Christians to the lions. Games can hold great meaning you know. I read this paper once about the significance of games as tribal ritual. It was fascinating. You have no idea..." 

"And I don't want any. Please, let me enjoy hockey without having to worry about its spiritual significance." 

Raising his gun, Jack fired some warning shots as the chariots came within range. He was pleased to see them pull back, obviously having learnt from the mistakes of their downed friends. 

"Jack, how's it going?" 

"Like fish in a barrel." 

"The pillar is just up ahead. Can you hold them off a little longer?" 

"No problem." 

Jim and Daniel barely even slowed as they reached the low dais, the chariots easily mounting the shallow steps to come to an abrupt halt on either side of the pillar. As one, they reached out, hands pressing firmly against the symbol that would take them home. 

* * *

**PART 9**

"Dammit Janet, what is it with you and your little flashlight. Seriously, what is the point? I haven't had a fall, or banged my head, or been unconscious." 

"Standard procedure Colonel, you should know that by now." 

"Does anyone review procedure? Ever?" 

Blair`s head popped through the curtain, his own examination over. "You know, you did nearly drown, Jack." 

The curtains twitched, flicking back to reveal Daniel's frowning face. "Drowned? You nearly drowned? Why am I only now hearing about this?" 

"Daniel I'm fine. See what you've done, Sandburg? You couldn't just let it go?" 

"Possibly he assumed that you'd already mentioned it yourself, Colonel." 

"Nothing to mention, Doc. I'm fine." 

"Colonel, near drowning is not `nothing'. There can be all kinds of complications. As your doctor I need to be kept informed about exactly this type of thing." 

Jack scowled at the two heads side by side nodding censoriously at him before turning his attention back to Janet. 

"Look, I was briefly underwater; _briefly_. That does _not_ constitute nearly drowning. Come to think of it, you were noticeably damp too, Daniel. Why was that?" 

"Oh, one of the pillars we transported through was under water." 

Blair`s head withdrew rapidly as he turned to the man standing behind him. "Jim, why am _I_ only now hearing about _this_?" 

"It wasn't that deep Chief. The tide went out and we got out of there _way_ before the evil looking spider things could get us." 

Dropping off the bed, Jack, hands on hips, forced his way into Daniel's personal space. "Excuse me? Spider things Daniel?" 

Stepping back a little, Daniel patted his arm soothingly. "I was going to tell you about them later, Jack. And before you say anything Janet, we weren't stung or bitten." 

"I'm glad to hear that, Daniel. I'm sure you would tell me if you had any injuries, wouldn't you?" 

"Absolutely." 

"For instance, those bruises on your back and the scrapes on your hands. I know you were going to tell me how you got those." 

"Oh, right, yes. Sorry, I forgot about that." 

"You forgot? You got hurt and you forgot?" 

"It was nothing, Jack, really." 

"Speak for yourself, Jackson." 

"Oh come on, it wasn't like I was aiming for you. Anyway, if you'd listened to me in the first place we never would have been in that situation." 

"Uh, Daniel, have we been remiss in our mission report?" 

"I haven't made a mission report yet, so no, obviously not." 

"You made a verbal one, to me, before we came back through the gate. You said, and I quote, `We worked out the symbol you had used to travel through the pillar and followed you." At no point did you mention any adventures underwater, or receiving any injuries. So why don't you tell me what situation you were in which involved you _not_ aiming at Ellison." 

"It was my fault, O'Neill. I was concerned about Blair and used the pillar against Daniel's advice. Consequently, we were transported to the incorrect location." 

"Still not explaining the aiming and bruising, Ellison." 

"It's nothing Jack, really. The first pillar was on top of a cliff; a very _small_ cliff." 

"And?" 

"And we fell over it." 

"You fell off a cliff? And you didn't find that worth mentioning?" 

"You know, cliff is probably the wrong word. Hill, it was a hill. Anyway, I wasn`t hurt; I landed on Jim." 

That certainly caught Blair`s attention. "Excuse me? Jim, you fell off a cliff and then Daniel landed on top of you? As Jack said, you didn't find that worth mentioning?" 

"I'm fine Chief. A bush broke my fall." 

"A bush?" 

"Yeah, so there's no need for you to worry. My backpack and combats protected me from the worst of the thorns." 

"There were thorns? Jim, you need to be checked out." 

"They were just thorns." 

Janet approached, brandishing a worryingly large needle. "Alien thorns. I'll need to take a blood sample to check for infection." 

"Look, I'm perfectly fine; those thorns didn't even draw blood." 

"Still, best to be safe. Come on Jim; roll up your sleeve so Janet can get her sample. Or would you rather have him drop his pants?" 

Janet paused for a moment, wondering if she should answer that question truthfully. Shaking her head to dispel the interesting image, she allowed her professionalism to reassert itself. "A sleeve will be fine." 

Before Jim could protest further, the blood was drawn and handed off to a nurse. 

Jack was confused. "Daniel, I'm confused. Was the water at the bottom of the cliff or what?" 

"No, that was the next pillar. If I'd only had more time to study the symbols we could probably have avoided that one, but what with the earthquake..." 

"Earthquake! Daniel, earthquake?" 

"Earthquake? Jim?" 

Worried that far too much interest was being shown in his and Jim's misadventures, Daniel felt it was time to divert attention back onto Jack and Blair. 

"I think we're forgetting here who was all but kidnapped and forced to participate in some bizarre game." 

Jim agreed wholeheartedly. "I don't know how anyone could enjoy something so...so contemptible. What kind of people are they?" 

"It's what their society teaches them to value, Jim. I mean, there's a lot our society considers entertainment that is totally vile. Think about what you were watching last night, for instance." 

"That is completely different. It was scientific." 

"No, Jim, it was the misfortunes and deformities of ordinary people packaged for public consumption. They throw in some med speak and techno babble to justify what they're showing, but that's not science. It's simply the modern equivalent of a freak show." 

"I admit it's not in the best of taste, but everything they show would exist anyway, whether they film it or not." 

"I think Blair has a point. You can't move these days without hearing about some new reality television show or exploitative chat show. There's Jerry Springer, or Big Brother, both of whom rely on humiliating the participants to get ratings, and isn't there some show where they force minor celebrities to endure a variety of disgusting and degrading trials?" 

Blair was warming to the subject, bouncing and nodding to Daniel in agreement. "Exactly, that's exactly it. Even some contact sports to a certain extent would fit the bill. And...and that programme where members of the public are asked to send in videos of supposedly real life disasters. You're not telling me that at least some of those aren't staged." 

Jack, who quite liked car crash television, felt he should register an objection to the comparisons being made. "C'mon, that's not fair. Okay, so maybe people are made to look dumb, but no one is being deliberately hurt, and certainly not killed." 

"It's just a question of degree, Jack." 

"A very important degree, don't you think, Daniel?" 

"Possibly, but I can see how this game, Munapakuy, could develop as it did. You have to take into consideration the society from which it developed. Virtually all early Meso American cultures practiced ritual human sacrifice, so..." 

"Wait up, Daniel; those people weren't descended from Aztecs, Incas, Mayans or whatever. Sandburg, didn't you say that the language was old English?" 

"Well, mostly, but not entirely. Most of the writing we initially found was close to Aztec, but..." 

Daniel interrupted, his keen mind already analysing and sorting data. "That makes sense. Language isn't stagnant, it's continually changing, developing, adapting to new influences. If we assume that the original inhabitants were Aztec, as the temple by the Stargate would indicate, then the earliest influences would have been Aztecan. Later, for whatever reason, a second group must have been transplanted. You see where I`m going with this, right?" 

Jack didn't. He looked across at Jim, who seemed as clueless as he was. "No idea." 

Blair, on the other hand, had a very good idea. "Yes, that would fit with the destruction and re-creation myth. The first humans through the gate could have died out due to natural disaster or disease. Of course, it's quite possible that whoever took them to that world simply decided they were unworthy and annihilated them. What I don't get is why they were replaced by such a different societal group." 

"Who knows? Perhaps when Tezcatlipoca, Tonatiyu or `whoever' came back for a new batch of humans the Aztecs no longer existed, so he spread his net wider. Anyway, we're getting off the point." 

"There's a point?" 

"Yes, Jack, the point is that the _original_ influence was sacrificial in nature. The fact that the game was known by a Quechuan title implies that it was a relic of this earlier civilisation. I believe it's significant that the sacrificial victims were supposedly not only volunteers but also considered privileged to be selected. Blair, isn't that the attitude displayed towards you and Jack." 

"Absolutely. We were thought to be especially blessed since we were the final two chosen." 

"Right, so perhaps what we're looking at here is the metamorphosis of a religious ritual. Perhaps these people are following through on a tradition of sacrifice, where in place of the gods of the sun, moon, earth, etc., they now sacrifice to the god of popular culture." 

Thinking for a moment, Jim turned to Blair. "See, Chief, didn't I always say cable was sacred?" 

"See what you've done, Daniel? I'll never get control of the remote now." 

Blair's woebegone expression effectively lightened the mood, resulting in general amusement. 

"Well, if you guys are done dissecting alien civilisations the General is waiting for us in the briefing room." 

Blair looked surprised. "He is? Isn't it a bit late for a debriefing now? I was hoping to have more time to evaluate all that's happened." 

"Don't worry, Sandburg, this is just a quickie. You can analyse to your heart's content in your mission report. Now come on kids, let's get moving." 

Jim ushered a happily chattering Blair out of the infirmary, nodding occasionally as he pretended to understand what he was being told. 

Daniel placed a restraining hand on Jack's arm as he went to follow. "Jack, when all this is over we are going to have a long talk." 

"We are, why? Not that I'm not always delighted to talk with you but really, why? Am I in trouble?" 

"What do you think?" 

"You`re giving me the `look`, so probably yes. What did I do this time?" 

"You know what you did." 

"No, I really don't." 

"Why don't you guess?" 

"I don't want to guess." 

"Worried you might let drop something I didn't already know?" 

"No." 

"Maybe I should keep you in suspense for awhile." 

"Aw, c'mon, Daniel, I don't think I can take any more games." 

"Okay then. I want to know _exactly_ what you've been saying behind my back." 

"Great Ass?" 

"Ja-ack." 

* * *

The General rose, beckoning them in with a smile. "Ah, gentlemen, please come in." 

Looking around, Blair was surprised to see his and Jim's team leader, Hannah Nelson and Kent Withers, their fourth. He had not expected to see them until the following week, when Colonel Nelson returned to duty. Smiling, he walked over to greet them, closely followed by Jim. 

"Hey, guys, what are you doing here, not that I'm not glad to see you. You're not checking up on us, are you, Hannah?" 

"Should I be? I heard you got into a bit of bother today." 

"Uh, yeah, but we're fine now." 

"Glad to hear that, Blair, I think I'm going to have to have a word with Colonel O'Neill about returning my team in the state in which he found them." 

"To be fair, it was kinda my fault in the first place. Then Jim made it worse." 

"Excuse me? If you recall, Daniel and I saved you." 

"Sure, but only after you fell down a cliff then materialized under water." 

"I see I'm going to have to keep a close eye on you two once I'm back in action." 

"Is that why you're here today, for a final check up from Janet?" 

"No, I'm here for a very important event of which the General was good enough to inform me." 

"You are? What exactly?" 

"I think he should tell you that himself. Looks like he's ready." 

Puzzled, Blair looked up at Jim, confused even further by the huge grin splitting his friend's face. For that matter, Jim's wasn't the only happy expression. All those present, from the General on down looked collectively like the cats that got the cream. What was going on here, and why didn't he know about it?" 

"Uh, Jim, guys, is there something you're not telling me?" 

Jim just patted him on the back and pushed him forward to stand in front of the General. 

"Uh, what's up General? Sir." 

"I asked your team to join us here on this special occasion. I take great pleasure in formally notifying you of the approval by committee of your dissertation. Congratulations, Doctor Sandburg." 

Blair took the diploma held out to him in a daze. He couldn't believe that this moment, the one he had worked toward for so many years, was finally here. He had it. After all that had happened, he was actually holding it in his hands. Blair Sandburg, PhD. Whoa. 

Jim slapped him on the back, and then hugged him close, leaning in to whisper softly. "Well done, Chief. I am so proud of you." 

Blair hugged back as multiple hands patted his back and words of praise filled his ears. 

After a few minutes, General Hammond called for order, once again addressing Blair. "Son, I regret that this couldn't be a public ceremony, however, the catering staff has put together a little celebration in the commissary. People, I suggest we head on up there directly. I heard talk of a cake." 

"Oooh. Cake." 

"Jack, please stop with the Homer Simpson impersonations. It's disturbing how convincing you are." 

"But I wasn't doing Homer Simpson, Daniel." 

"Oh my god, that's just scary." 

* * *

Jim kept a firm hand on a singing jiggling Blair as he fished for his key. 

"Blair buddy, could you _please_ keep still for _one minute_ while I get us inside." 

Instantly Blair's feet stilled, although his head still bobbed rhythmically and his hips gyrated. Clearly, he was still dancing on the inside. The singing, too, continued unabated. So far, Blair had sung his way through most of `Okalahoma`, `South Pacific`, `Gypsy`, `Sweet Charity', 'My Fair Lady' and `Carousel`. `You'll Never Walk Alone' seemed to hold particular fascination for him, meriting five renditions before Blair lost interest and moved on. At present, Jim was being treated to a very loud, slightly off key version of `The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow', complete with harmonies, all of which Blair was singing consecutively. 

Shaking his head in wonder at Blair's stamina, Jim eased him through the opened door. Two twirls and Blair was at the phone, snatching it up and happily dialling. Jim leapt for him grabbing it out of his hands and holding it well out of reach. 

"What do you think you're doing, Chief?" 

"I want to call Simon. I want to tell him about my diss...disstation. My disstatation. I want to tell him about my disstatation." 

"Maybe tomorrow, okay?" 

"Why not now?" 

"Because it's very late, and you've had a lot of Champagne." 

"You think I'm drunk?" 

"Not at all, just a little...merry." 

"Oh. Okay. As long as you're not implying I'm drunk. Because I'm not." 

"Of course not." 

"It was a good party, wasn't it, my party?" 

"It was a great party. Good of the General to relax the alcohol restrictions for the off duty personnel, although I imagine he expected us all to stick to one or two glasses of champagne for the toasts." 

"Not my fault. I didn't want to have all those drinks but I had to 'cause people was toasting me, and I had to drink with all of them. I wouldn't want to `ffend anyone who`d come to my party." 

"I see; they made you do it." 

"Yes, they did. Did you see the banner at my party? And my cake? They made me a special cake, just for me." 

"It was a wonderful banner and an excellent cake; very tasty. Now I think you need to get into bed before you crash." 

"Oooh, bed. Are we going to have sex now?" 

"I very much doubt it." 

"We're not? Why? Don't you want me any more?" 

"I always want you, but I suspect that the spirit might be willing but the flesh is not going to hold out much longer." 

"Oh. If you're tired you should get to bed, Jim." 

"I actually meant you, Chief." 

"Me? I'm fine, nothing wrong with my flesh. I'm good to go here, man." 

To demonstrate both his willingness and ableness, Blair tapped his way up the stairs, down the stairs and then back up again before throwing himself on the bed and bouncing enthusiastically. 

Smilingly shaking his head, Jim followed him up. 

"Okay then, little buddy, let's get you out of those clothes." Jim pulled his sweater over his head, reaching in to push his head through the neck and untangle his arms when he got lost in the folds. Then, pulling him upright, he started to unzip and peel off his jeans. 

Blair leaned back slightly, focussing a quizzical look on Jim`s face. "Are we really not going to have sex, `cause it sure seems like we are." 

"We're not going to have sex, Chief." 

"This isn't some kind of misplaced chivalry, is it? You know, worrying about taking advantage and stuff." 

"I would never misplace my chivalry, now could you _please_ keep still so I can get your pants off, Sandburg." 

"That's _Doctor_ Sandburg. Doctor _Blair_ Sandburg. Blair Sandburg, PhD. Doctor B.J. Sandburg. Doctor Blair J. Sandburg. The Doctor is _in_. The Doctor is _out_. The Doctor will see you now. Doctor Sandburg has _left_ the building." Blair started to giggle, and then abruptly sobered, looking a little scared. "Jim, I have a PhD." 

"I know. Lift your foot so I can get your boot." 

Dropping back onto the bed Blair lifted both legs, waving them under Jim`s nose. "Daniel still has more PhD's than me." 

"Well, he's older." 

"He is. He _is_ older. He also has less hair and no Sentinel." Nodding in satisfaction, Blair beamed at Jim. "I like him though, don't you?" 

"Sure I do." 

"But not too much. You don't like him as much as me, right?" 

"Not even close, Chief." 

"Good, because you know, you were looking pretty cosy there for a while. He helped you with your senses, didn't he?" 

"I guess, but he only reminded me that I could do stuff you'd shown me how to do in the first place. He could never do what you do." 

"I don't know. He picks things up so fast." 

"That may be, but he could never be a Guide. Way too high maintenance." 

"High maintenance, really?" 

"Oh yeah. Most honestly good people are." 

"Am I not good too?" 

"Sure you are, just in a different way. You always try to help people, think the best of them. I admire that, even if I could wish you were a bit more selfish at times." 

"You're right. Daniel doesn't care what anyone thinks of him, he just goes on ahead and does what he believes is the right thing to do. Me, I want people to like me. I can't stand the thought of letting anyone down, so when I'm asked to do something I do it even if it`s inconvenient. I can't say no." 

Blair lay back, his mood reflective. Jim thought for a moment that he was falling asleep. He thought that right up until Blair began belting out `I'm Just a Girl Who Can't Say No'. 

"Oh god, not again. Chief, how can you know so many show tunes?" 

Smiling beatifically, Blair paused a moment to reply. "Twinkle taught me." 

"Excuse me?" 

"Twinkle Star. She was this ageing ex-burlesque dancer at one of the communes we lived in when I was a kid. She lived for show tunes and her stinky Chihuahua, Milton. Taught me all she knew. Here, I`ll show you." Blair leapt up, and then looked down at his bare feet in confusion. "You took my shoes. How am I supposed to do a soft shoe shuffle with no shoes?" 

Dropping to the floor, he reached for his discarded boots, lying flat on his back to tug them on. Jim leaned over the bed to see what he was doing, but had to jerk back as Blair's head popped up within millimetres of his nose. 

Jim tried not to laugh, he really did, but a drunken Blair, wearing nothing but a pair of hiking boots, dancing around the room while singing 'Luck be a Lady Tonight' at full volume, wasn't something he saw every day. 

Watching the show, Jim started to remove his own clothes, laughing out loud at some of Blair's more bizarre moves. Once naked, he settled on the bed, head propped on one arm as he watched Blair, who continued to dance, segueing easily into `Cabaret', complete with high kicks and Bob Fosse styling. His energy was contagious and Jim began to wonder if perhaps he had been too hasty in ruling out sex. 

One big finish later and Blair was diving for the bed, landing on top of Jim, shifting to straddle his hips. 

"So what do you say, Jim, am I going to get lucky tonight?" 

"It's possible. Sure you're up to it." 

"Oh man, am I up to it. See Jim; see how up to it I am?" 

"Very impressive." 

Jim began to caress Blair's thighs, running his hands up to rest on his hips, then stroking back over his buttocks. Blair arched his back, hands pressing against Jim's chest, head thrown back. He writhed sensuously on Jim's lap, bending forward to kiss along his jaw to his mouth. 

Jim shifted him a little, trying to reach for the nightstand. 

"Jim?" 

"Lube." 

"Hold still, I'll get it." 

Blair stretched across Jim, hand rifling through the drawer. He lay like that for a long time; too long. 

"Blair?" 

His only reply was a small snuffling snore. 

"Damn, I knew it." Sighing in frustration, Jim eased Blair onto the bed next to him, folded in close. Blair instinctively moulded his body around Jim's, arm wrapped possessively around his chest. Reaching down, Jim pulled the covers over them both, tucking them tenderly under Blair's chin. 

Propped up on one elbow, he looked down at Blair's sleeping face, running his finger around an ear, smoothing back an errant curl then laying his hand against the warm cheek. Leaning down he pressed a kiss to the parted lips. "Good night, Doctor Sandburg." 

Lying down, he drew Blair into his arms, wrapping around him protectively. Blair mumbled slightly in his sleep, only Jim's sensitive hearing allowing him to hear the words. Jim smiled, hugging him tighter. 

"I know, Chief, I love you too. Always." 

** _The End_ ** 

* * *

End Pop-Culture by Remma: morennab@yahoo.co.uk  
Author and story notes above.

  
Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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